Ache
by Mamoro
Summary: A repository for my un-beta'd one shots and drabbles. All canon, all KenKao, non-sequential. Written mostly to cleanse my palate while I write other things.
1. Worthy

Our little obsession is an action Manga, but Watsuki-san indulged in the most angst riddled, character torturing declaration of love that I have ever seen with the Jinchuu arc.

They've all just come through the forge and Kaoru has found out that Kenshin loves her with inarguable devotion. What is it like for her to be the recipient of that kind of love, from that kind of man?

*Note: "Sekihara-san" refers to Tae's father.

* * *

Her hair looked...respectable, pinned and coiled like a proper woman. She smoothed the lines of her kimono, checked her obi, and nodded. Today she must negotiate with the workmen to begin the dojo's skilled carpentry repairs, and she must look authoritative. Her taxes were due next month, her men were all injured, her income was paltry and the dojo was it was would not shelter them through the coming winter. She must secure the foreman's agreement to do the job at her price; there was no alternative.

She looked into her own eyes in her mother's mirror. "I am Kamiya Kaoru, I am the successor of Kamiya Kasshn Ryu, and Kenshin loves me. I will not fail."

She firmed her jaw, straightened her shoulders, and left for battle, such as it was.

.

.

.

She kept one sharp eye on the workmen, ensuring they did the job they'd agreed to do, and her other eye on her task. She did not balk at the blood in the washtub, on her hands and arms, scrubbing the stained linen bandages clean. A boiling water rinse after, to sanitize them for re-use. She must ensure the construction dust didn't touch them, didn't contaminate them, didn't bring infection to her recuperating family.

She plunged her hands in the pink water, into the blood of her injured men, and did not balk.

 _Kenshin loves me._

 _._

 _._

 _._

She portioned the meal onto three separate trays, ensuring that she had remembered to include all the warm, strengthening foods that Megumi had prescribed. A carefully measured portion of powdered medicine into each of three teacups, and they were complete. She did not shy away from acknowledging the cost of these foods, did not scrimp on those things that her men needed. She did not acknowledge her own dinner of leftover soup and her paltry portion of rice. There would be time for that later, alone in her room.

There was steel in her eyes, she knew, so she closed them briefly. Alone in the quiet kitchen, she put on a sparkling smile and lifted the first tray. Her men would only see her smiling, she vowed.

 _Kenshin loves me._

 _._

 _._

 _._

She learned from Megumi how to change the bandages. She helped her men to the outhouse with strong arms and a straight back. She barely blushed as she bathed them. She changed sheets and wiped brows and smiled all the while. She kept them all in separate rooms so that none of them realized how much time she spent caring for them and how little time she spent sleeping. Just a little bit of beauty cream banished the dark circles and they need never know.

As Sekihara-san sat drinking her tea and demanded compensation for the ruined Akabeko, as townspeople recoiled from her in superstitious fear, as she pretended not to here the gossip that followed her like a wave, she lifted her chin and chanted silently:

 _Kenshin loves me..._

 _I am a woman worthy of devotion._


	2. Ache

Manga!Kenshin actually really enjoys needling Kaoru about her cooking. I was surprised when I re-read the manga and noted this, but he really does. He comments pretty often about how bad her food tastes, and he has this huge smile on this face every time he does it. For a guy as kind hearted as Kenshin, that's pretty strange and gave birth to this little plot bunny.

* * *

Kaoru was sewing tonight. Kenshin loved to watch her while she did. She always did it at night, after dinner, dressed in her sleeping yukata and jacket, sitting in the main room, stitching away by lamp light. Tonight, Yahiko was already in bed, the work was all done, and the night sky was cloudy and not terribly interesting to watch. She had been mending a kimono of his, but she now seemed to be adding a bit of embroidery to the sleeve.

He'd been surprised at first that a woman like Kaoru-dono enjoyed such a feminine task, but it seemed that she really did. She always smiled as she sewed and sometimes she hummed little songs under her breath. Really, some day he should ask her what about it made her smile so, but not tonight. Tonight he would pretend to drink tea and watch her as she worked.

It was easy to forget that she was conventionally pretty, sometimes, but it was never more apparent than when she indulged in this lady-like work. Her eyes were downcast, dark lashes smudging high cheekbones. The curve of her cheek was velvety smooth. Her chin was cutely pointed, her lips were a pretty blush pink. Her neck was long and slender, and really didn't bear contemplation for the sake of Kenshin's sanity. Her hair was softly braided and down over her left shoulder.

It was like a secret between them, this quiet beauty. Kenshin knew that he shouldn't allow this, shouldn't savor it so, but he was unable to deny himself. He knew that no other man had ever watched her thus, had never seen this private gentleness.

Kenshin was only staying here for little while, just a little rest, and this was the height of stupidity. _Baka deshi, indeed._ But he couldn't seem to stay away, and this would make his leaving all the more difficult. He watched her sew, and pretended to drink his tea, and tried to understand why his chest ached.

.

.

.

Kaoru was yelling at Yahiko. Kenshin loved to watch her while she did. Her eyes flashed, and her cheeks flushed, her lips turning a darker pink. Her gestures were large and wild, and her expression fierce.

He'd been surprised at first that a pretty young woman, obviously descended from samurai, so eschewed the feminine virtue of modesty. Kaoru-dono had no care for whether she drew attention, and more often than not, she demanded it.

There was precious little pretense to her, and what there was, was poorly and half-heartedly done. When Kaoru-dono was angry, the whole world knew it. Her emotive eyes and expressive face screamed her intentions, and her strident voice cleared up any further misconceptions.

Absurdly, her anger made his shoulders relax. With this one small woman, there was no need for vigilance. No effort was required to assess her motives, no tense awareness of hidden sorrows needed. He enjoyed provoking her, turning all that glorious rage in his direction. He would make an unprovoked remark about her cooking, then stand and admire her while she exploded.

It was like watching a summer storm, all thunder and lightening, fierce and natural. It made his breath catch, it made his stomach tight. It made him think of things that should only be recalled during night time hours. It was stupid of him to have allowed this, to have become so tangled here and so tangled in her and the thought of leaving this place now made his chest ache.

.

.

.

Kaoru was singing. Kenshin loved to watch her while she did. She always sang as she nursed, and she always petted Kenji's tuft of red hair. Her expression was besotted, her eyes loving, and her face soft. She was full of woman's mystery, her body curled around the baby.

Her hair was down, straight and shining, and she was still in her sleeping robe although the sunlight in the room was bright. She had bled so much, a terrifying amount of blood, and Megumi had prescribed bedrest for a month after the baby's birth. Two weeks later now, her cheeks were still white, her lips the palest pink.

She was stronger today, sitting up while she gave Kenji his lunch, and Kenshin was glad. The medicine Megumi had left seemed to be working well. Kenshin knew that this would be their only baby; he couldn't bear to risk her to the dangers of childbed again.

For now, all was right in his world, and he watched his son's tiny mouth work at Kaoru's breast. She always welcomed him here, seemed to know somehow what watching his miracle did to him. _I will never leave this place._ And his heart was so full that it made his chest ache.


	3. Gratitude

A tiny moment of post-Jinchuu contentment.

* * *

Dust motes floated in the sunshine, and laying in his futon Kenshin watched them dance with a deep contentment. The sounds of saws and hammers were keeping him awake despite Megumi's nasty tea and he didn't mind a bit.

 _She's home._

Kaoru was home, and he could hear her fussing around the yard, passing water to the workers and coordinating the repairs from Enishi's destruction. He smiled when she began threatening Yahiko back to his bed, promising violence if he tried to help the men and hurt himself, blissfully unconcerned with how ludicrous it was to threaten someone with harm to keep them from a different harm.

She was home, and the dojo was being repaired and Kenshin's body ached fiercely in a dozen places and he was so happy that his chest felt too small to contain it all. He watched his family working and arguing through the open shoji, watched as they smiled in the sunshine, and his body was relaxed. Sometimes that soul deep imperative to protect kept his shoulders tense, his awareness high, and made true rest difficult. Now, though, watching them safe and happy and alive he felt...satisfied. His own personal dragon was appeased and he felt almost boneless, resting there.

She was home, and his family was all home now too, revolving around their center. The Kamiya dojo was a _home_ again, it's walls offering friendly shelter, its rooms and halls all spaces for her joy, its air meant to carry her scent, its furnishings meant to bring her pleasure. And Kenshin was so thankful that he, always a man of few words, had no way to express how grateful he was.

 _Thank you, Tomoe, for keeping her safe._


	4. Peculiar

Post-canon, and written because I'm avoiding smoothing out a rough scene in my new chaptered story.

Anime characters have purple hair and pink eyes and et cetera but no one comments. In _Rurouni Kenshin_ , though, everyone comments on Kenshin's coloring, and there is a very notable lack of others with crazy haircolor. Yes, there are other characters with odd eye color, but I'm gonna gloss right over that in my own personal head-canon. With the Japanese emphasis on conformity for harmony, and an entire race of people with one hair color (with natural variations, true, but basically brown and black), can you imagine the attention a _red-head_ would draw?

* * *

She was staring. Kenshin tried not to sigh. The vendor's wife was staring and it was making both the vendor and Kaoru angry. Keshin rapidly bought the salt they needed and moved away, taking his wife with him.

Usually Kaoru's moods shifted like the clouds, but even now on the walk home, she remained disturbed. Kenshin watched her from the corner of his eye but held his silence. She would speak if she wanted to speak.

She did not speak. She walked quietly, a step behind him and to the left, although they normally walked next to each other. Her eyes were downcast, although normally she met the world boldly. Her mouth was frowning, although normally it as smiling.

At home, Kenshin put away the groceries and made a pot of tea. "Come, Kaoru-dono, we should sit on the porch, that we should," and he shooed her outside.

She sat, and looked at the sky, and her teacup, and her sleeves and generally anywhere but at him. Kenshin waited more or less patiently through the first cup tea. He allowed himself that sigh.

"Kaoru-dono, will not tell this one what has you so troubled?"

She gave him a tiny smile, and it was not a happy one. "Did you see her, that woman? Did you see how pretty she was?" And Kenshin was still clueless.

"... she was...fine, that she was. This one does not see what-"

"She was beautiful! And so was that lady in the park last week. And the woman that sells ribbons," she was leaning towards him now. "And the one at the Akabeko-"

"Kaoru-dono, this one-" Kaoru slammed her cup down onto the wooden planks.

"And the woman with the little girl buying sweet buns, and that _man_ at the tax office!" She was shouting, her face fierce.

"Kaoru!" His voice was sharp with confusion and a little bit of panic. She pressed her lips together, inhaled sharply, and snapped herself up straight, glaring out over the yard.

Kenshin took a breath, gentled his voice. "Kaoru-dono, this one truly does not understand, that I do not. What are you talking about?"

Her voice was small. "...They all stare at you."

He blinked. "Oh, well, this one is a little strange, that I am."

"Kenshin!" Her indignation dripped off the syllables of his name. "They weren't staring because you're _strange_ , they were staring because you're beautiful."

"Kaoru-dono," he _must not laugh_. "Kaoru-dono, they _were_ staring because this one is strange, that they were. This one has always been a bit… peculiar, all of this one's life." His hair, his eyes, his stature...In an field of black hair and dark eyes, he was an odd bright bloom that people had always noticed, even as a child. The slavers had wanted him for his exotic looks. In Kyoto they had called him _dragon_ , and _demon._ As a young man, he had attracted women like bees to honey. And as a husband, he apparently had an irritated wife.

An irritated wife who was glowering impressively. "You are _my_ husband! _Mine_! You're not supposed to be attracting... people!" She waved in the air, encompassing the insult to her possession.

He smiled and pulled her close. "Kaoru-dono, this one is indeed yours." Her cheek was smooth under his hand. "This one desires no other," and her lips were soft under his. She yielded for moment, then pushed him away, tossing her head.

"Kaoru-dono," he cupped the back of her head, his thumb stroking her neck. "Kaoru-dono, none of those people would have welcomed this one home. None of them would forgive this one's past. None of those people are as wonderful as you, that they are not."

He looked into her sweet, troubled eyes. "This one has always attracted attention because of my unusual coloring, Kaoru-dono. Sometimes to this one's advantage and often not. Never has any of those people ever cared whether this ones like sweet potatoes." Kaoru huffed a tiny laugh, and Kenshin smiled. "Nor do they wonder how this one likes tea, or if this one has cold feet." Kaoru pushed him away again, smiling honestly now, but he recaptured her, pulling her into his arms, and resting with her against his favorite porch pillar.

"It does not matter who stares, or what they think, Kaoru-dono; this one shall remain only yours, forever."


	5. Scent

Please let me know if this one is weird, I'm all high on pain medicine after my visit to the doctor today. Also, I was experimenting with verb tense in this one, trying an exercise to rid myself of some bad habits. However, I like the feeling of my bad habits, I think, so I went back to touch it up and make it sound more like me.

Onward!

Scent is one of the most powerful of the senses. We react to smells on a visceral, animal level that our conscious minds might not acknowledge but it's a powerful thing. In Ruruouni Kenshin, Tomoe's perfume is a recurring theme of Jinchuu. This is just an exploration of the comfort scent can bring us.

* * *

The first night Kenshin slept at the dojo , he awoke with a smile to the smell of aged wood, of cleanliness and polishing wax and the spring flowers from the yard. His blankets were thick and soft and had been packed into storage with sweet herbs. His body and hair were clean and comfortable, smelling of soap and sweet water.

 _This is a good place, that it is._

He took a slow, deep breath through his nose, took in a lung full of the Kamiya Dojo, and filed the details into his memory for ready retrieval on the the cold nights of future wandering.

.

.

.

Laying in bed the first night back from Kyoto, Kenshin stared at the ceiling and breathed in, slow and deep. Kaoru had gone wild when they returned, organizing a cleaning party of epic proportions, airing the rooms and scrubbing with vigor. The house now smelled damp, the sharp tang of vinegar in the air. Under that, though, were the familiar smells of age and polish, and the scent of the overgrown yard, a crowding of green things that needed tended.

The elegant compound had been neglected while they were gone, and Kenshin felt a strange kinship with the stately old place. He lay still, forearm across his forehead, and breathed it all in again.

 _I will not leave again, that I won't._

.

.

.

When he collapsed in Kaoru's arms on Enishi's bloody beach, Kenshin's initial reaction was revulsion. Kaoru should not smell of white plum blossom, and the intrusive _wrongness_ of the scent made him nauseous. Later, she had apologized, and explained that the perfume was in the only soap she had been allowed for bathing, that the kimono Enishi had given her had reeked of it.

Days later, Kenshin lay in his bed, wrapped in bandages, and he ached in more than body. He felt disconnected, out of step with his own life. He rolled his head to the side, watching Kaoru as she chattered and she cleaned away his meal. She looked up, caught his eyes, and her face softened as she shifted closer to his side.

"Kenshin, it's alright," she stroked a hand over his hair, bold and tender. "We're all home now." He caught her fingers and pressed the back of her hand to his cheek, turning his nose into her wrist: jasmine and salt, polishing wax and vinegar, green things and autumn air. He held her to himself, and breathed deep as the missing pieces of his heart clicked back into place.

 _I am home again at last, that I am..._ and he felt no shame as he cried in relief.


	6. Amae

Amae

"Amae" is a Japanese concept that is derived from our innately childish desire to have our loved ones take care of us. Definition: to depend and presume upon another's benevolence"or "a to wish to be loved."

Setting is ambiguous, but I imagine it's right before Kyoto. Be sure to brush your teeth after reading...I think I have a cavity now.

Note: a black "lucky cat" is supposed to bring luck and ward off evil and stalkers. Seems appropriate.

* * *

Kenshin sat on the porch, snapping beans and enjoying the sunshine. Everyone was out for the day and no one was there to see as he devoured yet another cake. _Mmm..._

Sweets always reminded him of his first home, far away and long ago, and his memory supplied him with a fuzzy image of a smiling woman with red hair. Shishou didn't care for sweets, it wasn't manly enough, and he hadn't had any such indulgences during his training. And of course, being a ruruoni did not lend itself to the money needed to buy such an extravagance.

Kaoru-dono, though, had apparently picked up rather quickly how much he loved anything sweet, and she made sure that there was always something sugary stashed away in the kitchen. He was certain that she had learned to bake just to keep him supplied with the treats. After all, sweets were the only thing she made well. He smiled at the funny little cake in his hand, lopsided and odd. They always tasted delicious, though, and he stuffed it in his mouth like a child, his smile so wide that his eyes crinkled.

He knew that she thought she was being subtle with all the little things she did. There were always tea cakes, and sweet potatoes, and she brewed her tea mild and smooth. His red kimono had disappeared for a few days, once, and returned with the seams reinforced, and a funny little black cat embroidered on the inside of the left collar.

He felt...spoiled, treasured. Kaoru-dono worried if he didn't take a umbrella. She fussed over whether he had enough blankets. She was saving money for a new hakama, she told him, because his own seemed worn.

He smiled down at the beans, and ate another cake.


	7. Kagome, Kagome

Ugh, this tramadol crap is just killing my muse... or maybe she's just laying around, high as kite and not doing her job. :)

Kagome, Kagome is a traditional Japanese children's game, sort of Ring Around the Rosie combined with Marco Polo.

* * *

Kenshin smiled and watched his son play in the yard. Kenji had presented his new red ball for the admiration of the neighbors' little ones and it now looked as though they'd moved on to _Kagome, Kagome_.

Kenji was standing in the middle, small hands pressed over his eyes while the other children circled and sang. The song stopped, and the little boy's sweet high voice guessed correctly.

"Aiko-chan!" The little girl groaned and Kenji giggled. She took his place in the middle and the game resumed. Kenji was the oni frequently, likely because he giggled madly each time he ended behind the child that was "it." Kenshin finished the wash and moved on to sweeping the yard.

"Daisuke-kun!" Kenji crowed, and the little boy behind him laughed, moving to the center and covering his eyes. Kenshin was watching more than sweeping now, and the game progressed. The other children guessed and missed more often the not. Kenshin's three year son, however, was always right.

Always.

"Ne, everyone," Kenshin called. "This one has something for your game," and he produced a dry ribbon from the folded laundry. Jiro darted forward to retrieve the prize and tied it (as he was six, and knew how to tie a bow) around Kenji's eyes. The children spun and sang. Kenji giggled in the middle, waiting for his cue.

"Kagome kagome /the bird in the basket /when, oh when will it come out/In the night of dawn/the crane and turtle slipped/who is behind you now?"

"Eiji-kun!" He was right.

Eiji scuffed his sandal in the dirt. "This game is stupid! Let's play ball." And the giggling group of children dissolved their circle, running to separate corners for a new game with the tempting red toy. Kenji ran to his father, holding the ribbon.

"Here, Tou-chan!" and off he went to take his place in the new game. Kenshin stood, rubbing the ribbon between forefinger and thumb, wondering. _He's only three..._

"I told you, Husband. It's time to begin training," Kaoru had apparently been watching too and she now stood on the porch. "It may be Meiji, but it would be a crime to waste kenki like that."

"Aa, you're right, as always Kaoru-dono."

Kenji's first lesson would be the prudence of occasionally guessing wrong.


	8. Bath Time

This is just a funny little drabble. Just silliness.

* * *

"Ne, Kenshin, no moping," his wife handed him tea and a cake, sitting next to him on the porch.

"Kenji hates this one, Kaoru-dono," and his voice was as limp as his bright hair, his entire posture radiating misery.

"No, he does not!" Kaoru's voice was firm. "He loves you, just like he's always loved you."

"...he pulls this one's hair."

" _I_ pull your hair, and I certainly don't hate you," she said, and tugged his bangs. "And sometimes you like it when I pull your hair." Her smile was naughty.

He smiled weakly at her teasing, and she scooted closer to rest her head on his slumped shoulder.

"...alright, alright," she sighed, "I'll bathe him for the rest of the month."

His eyes lit like a lantern. "Thank you!" and he kissed her, there on the porch in the middle of the day, then stuffed the cake in his mouth and scuttled away before she changed her mind.

Kaoru shook her head and winced, imaging the horrors of bathing her four year old son, and the weeks of animosity to come. _What a woman does for love,_ and she drank the rest her tea like a shot of cheap sake.


	9. Memories

And now for something completely different! Pushing the boundaries on the T rating for a whole lot of implied naughtiness.

No person lands in our lives wholly formed; everyone has a past, and Kenshin spent a decade traveling all over the country on foot. Not all of his memories can possibly be bad. And also, he's young and exotically good looking and deliberately un-intimidating - and no young man is going to refuse every offer that comes his way...

* * *

"Kenshin, wake up!" Kaoru's voice roused him, her hand shaking his shoulder. "Are you alright? Was it a nightmare? You were...moaning..." She narrowed her pretty blue eyes as Kenshin blinked owlishly in the lamp light. "Not a nightmare?" She pursed her mouth and tilted her head and the amusement on her face made him blush.

"Eh...no, it was not." His wife smiled, shook her head, and flopped back into the bed bedside him. "I haven't had that dream in many years," he pulled her into his arms, "but this is better, so it is." Her hair smelled like flowers, and he relaxed around her, drifting again. Kaoru had other ideas, apparently, pushing back to meet his eyes.

"Well, if you're moaning in my bed and it's not about me, you could at least tell me about it!" Her bright eyes were laughing, no anger and no hurt anywhere on her and Kenshin smiled for her. "You promised," she wheedled, "and there's no way that was an _unpleasant_ dream, so confess, already."

And she was laughing, and so much more confident now than she was a year ago, and when had she ever held his past against him? Besides, he had promised... so he laughed, and pulled her into his arms and onto his chest and told her.

 _He'd only been twenty one at the time, and just passing through a little village when he'd run out of money. A few inquiries had led him to a small cottage outside of the town owned by two widowed sisters, a not unusual circumstance with the recent war. The roof needed extensive repairs and the women agreed to room, board, and pay. The younger one had watched him all day and he had been a little embarrassed and a whole lot pleased. After nightfall, he learned that the women_ were _widows but definitely_ were not _sisters, and he proceeded to spend a highly... educational...week in that little cottage._

Now thirty and comfortably married, the memory was almost embarrassing, but Kaoru was quivering with laughter as she rested against him and that alone was worth enduring the telling. She lifted her head from his chest, mischief written large on her face, fingers tracing a random pattern across his collar bone. "Do you think they still live there?"

"Oro? Um, I doubt it, beloved, that was a very long time ago, that it was. Why?"

"Well, you see, I think that I'd like to send them a letter."

"...A letter?"

"Mmhmm," she nodded. "A letter. A letter just brimming with thanks because-" Kenshin gasped, then laughed, and flipped her onto her back, "-it occurs to me that they probably taught you that thing you do with your hand while you-" and she didn't have the breath to continue as her husband tickled her mercilessly.

He rested his head on her chest and smiled as he watched her calm. "How did I end up with such a cheeky wife?" He kissed her breastbone.

"Just lucky, I think." She was combing her small hands through his hair. "Tell me another. Something nice."

Kenshin hummed, and closed his eyes and thought for a moment. "I was passing through Kai one spring, and I met this woman-"

"Another woman?" She tugged his hair and he huffed a laugh.

"She was old enough to be my grandmother, and walked a little like a mantis, with her hands always up, so she did." Her laughter echoed in her chest under his ear, "and she scolded me for not helping her with her parcels, and I went to work for her for a few days...she had the most ridiculous sweet tooth... She taught me to make ohagi, that she did." Kaoru hummed, and stroked his hair and the cicadas sang and he told her about the strange, kind, irascible old woman he had met, all the while enjoying the feel of his wife's body softening under him and listening to the rhythm of her breathing until he, too, fell into dreamless sleep, smiling into her soft skin.

* * *

.

*Author's note*

Aw, I got my very first flame for this story. I must be legit! Anyway, to my reviewer/s that feel that Kenshin would never have casual sex, and that he has only ever been with two women: I respectfully disagree.

 _Why_ do I think that Kenshin would have sex with a pretty, willing lady or two along the way? Because it's likely: he's not Christian, he has no cradle-guilt associated with sex, premarital or otherwise and his culture wasn't shaped by Christianity either. He's also a man, and men disassociate sex from love for a myriad of chemical and biological reasons.

Being said, to those folks out there that feel that Kenshin is a really unique guy (cause he is) and that he would choose to abstain for all his own reasons, I say "cool."

'Cause that's the great thing about fanfiction! Anything not strictly canon is all up for grabs and can be anything we want it to be. Fandom is _great_ because it allows all of us to bring our own ideas to a great _central_ idea. There are some amazing stories that feature Kenshin as an adorable damn-near-virgin, and I love those stories and I respect those authors.

Happy Reading! :)


	10. Unreasonable Fears

'Cause Kenshin strikes me as the kinda guy that goes crazy when the people in his life hide things from him.

* * *

The lamp was out. Again. Kenshin resisted the urge bare his teeth.

Last night he had rebelled and tried to light the lamp. Kaoru had distracted him quite effectively,but not before he had formed the unpleasant suspicion that Kaoru was deliberately, and literally, keeping him in the dark. Kenshin frowned at the shadow of his wife in their bed. Why would she be concealing something from him? What could possibly be so bad? Bruises or scars or... _what was she hiding?_

With quiet purpose, he strode to the chest and struck a match.

"Kenshin? You'll wake the baby," her voice was quiet, "blow that out."

"Kenji-chan could sleep through a canon blast, that he could." The baby's ability to sleep was only rivaled by that of a cat. Kenshin began to undress for bed.

"...I'm tired, Kenshin, put out the lamp so I can sleep."

"No."

"Mou!" Kaoru sat up, glaring at him. "Kenshin! Put out the lamp!" He slid under the covers with her.

"No," and he pulled his frowning, angry wife into a kiss. With a bit of effort he could tell she began to soften and he pressed his advantage, his hands in her hair, crowding her with his body. She was responding now, making soft little sounds and stroking her hands over his shoulders. He began to guide her down under him, smiling into her mouth as he reached for the ties to her yukata.

She yelped, slapping his hands and leaping half off the futon onto the floor. "Pervert!" She had the yukata clenched closed at her neck with both hands. Shocked, Kenshin closed his open mouth with a click, and stared. His wife began to blush and avoided meeting his eye.

"Kaoru?"

"I'll.. I'll just turn out the lamp." She began to rise, her face crimson.

"No." He caught her arm, pulling her down and back onto the futon. "...What are you doing, beloved?" She kept her face turned away, her cheeks still red. "What is it that you don't want me to see?" Her response was sub audible. "Kaoru. Tell me." Whatever she was covering up was important, and she was _hiding_ _it from him._ He squashed down his worry and his anger and waited.

"It's just.." she twisted her sleeves, arms crossed protectively across her stomach. "Things are... different..." she was whispering now, "since the baby." He blinked, and stared.

"Different."

She nodded, and peeked at him from beneath her bangs.

"You've been hiding from me because -because things are _different_?"

"Mou!" She looked angry now, and Kenshin was far more comfortable with that than the shy stranger of a moment ago. "I had a baby, Kenshin, of course things are different!"

 _Of all the..._ "Kaoru, beloved." What on earth was he supposed to say? "Why would you-"

"Because I've gone all, all _soft a_ nd, and... fat." She'd hidden herself and frightened him silly because she thought... A semi-hysterical laugh wanted to be set free. Kenshin ruthlessly squashed it.

"Kaoru," his voice was firm. "You are not fat. Not by any definition." She shucked her sleeping robe in a quick, firm motion, tossing it angrily into a corner, and he sucked in a rapid breath through his nose. She pinched some little bit of loose skin on her belly, presenting it as though it were a worm in a flower.

"Look!"

"I am looking." And he was, his mouth gone dry and his blood supply rapidly relocating south.

"My belly is soft, my hips are even _wider_ than they used to be, my breasts are just _huge_ and Megumi-san said that I'm not to exercise more than an hour a day yet-" But Kenshin had long ago stopped listening. He pulled her down underneath him and proceeded to win the argument of her attractiveness rather definitively.


	11. Truth

Kaoru acted oddly when she confronted Kenshin at Hiko's home outside of Kyoto. And he was just as weird. So, viola! Tiny drabble.

Takes place after Hiko and Kenshin conclude their first night of training, after Kenshin's had a bath and Kaoru's been waiting this whole time...

* * *

The night was warm and dark, laying heavy against her skin. Hiko's mountain was beautiful, really, the lights of Kyoto seeming to float in the valley below. Fireflies flashed in the field under her, playing in the tall grasses. She heard the steps behind her, and looked down at her lap.

He sat on the grass beside her, smelling like soap from his bath and _Kenshin_ , and her chest squeezed tight. They sat for a long while, not speaking and not touching, and she felt... sad. She hadn't expected to feel sad, not now that she'd found him, but she did anyway. Not desolate, not grieving like she had in Tokyo, but sore and bruised and raw.

"Say that you missed me. Even if it's a lie, just say it, please." .

"This one wouldn't lie to you, Kaoru-dono." She looked up at him finally, and this time he let her see. "This one missed you every step of the way, so I did."


	12. Epiphany

Written 'cause I think that the last thing Kenshin really intended was to allow Kaoru to mean so much to him, and I don't think he'd appreciate the revelation.

I heard Koaru teasing Kenshin in the anime during a rewatch, and it was just so damn perfect...ugh.

Placed during Jineh, obviously.

* * *

She was lovely when her hair tumbled down, gleaming with blue highlights in the sunshine, her hand extended with the ribbon. Then she said her little speech, and he stared at her, eyes opened wide in wonder. She was worried for him, worried over his safety, and worried about his return to _her_. She was worried, and it was heart warming, in the truest sense of the word; his chest felt warm and full. For a moment, he was very happy.

Then Jineh snatched her from the riverbank, the _bastard_ , and how had he muffled his _ki_ like that? The river was faster even than Kenshin, and there was no way to get himself into that boat without capsizing them all into the dangerous current. The rage he felt was startling in its intensity, sharp edged and burning. He wanted to roar and rend, and his jaw ached from how tightly his teeth were grinding. Some distant corner of his mind registered that this wasn't normal, that what he felt was... possessive.

But there was no time for anything what wasn't how to locate and then _maim_ Jineh, and figuring himself out would have to wait.

It was as she lay on the ground, gasping, that she told him: " _I'm fine, Kenshin, that I am."_ That she was _teasing_ him as she wheezed, that she had managed to spare him the thing he had been about to do... Kenshin was full of gratitude and relief, overflowing with it. For just a second, he wanted to cry, he wanted to kiss her, he wanted to take back his non-killing vow just so that he could make it again and lay it at her feet like a gift. And then Jineh said something stupid and that moment was over and it was more pain and blood and motion.

.

.

.

Later that night, clean and bandaged, he lay in his comfortable bed and stared at the familiar ceiling of his room. The world was quiet, now, and he had a moment to think over the day, and what he saw...

He was a twenty-eight year old penniless widower with stained hands and a filthy past -and he was head over heels in love.

 _Kami-sama,_ what a mess.


	13. Price

Even trained and seasoned fighters are afraid during a fight; you'd have to be an idiot or a sociopath (or an emotionally traumatized, semi-suicidal rurouni) to feel NO fear while people try to kill you with pointy objects. The purpose of training is to be physically able to fight, yes, but also to be able emotionally.

Kenshin was torn apart by guilt and grief for a very, very long time. Even after the ougi, and learning to value his own life I think that he still had some pretty significant healing to do. I also think that it would all feel a bit new for Kenshin because I don't think he's tried on much emotional range in a long time.

* * *

.

The first fight after Enishi was a revelation. It was a rather large group of bothersome thugs, and deteriorating body or not, Kenshin knew that he outclassed them like he knew that the sun would rise each morning. The fight itself lasted about six minutes and most of that was spent trying to talk some reason into their "leader," such as he was.

It was after they were all down, and obviously not planning to get up again, that Kenshin noticed the tiny tremor in his hands as he sheathed the sakabatou. He suppressed the urge to grimace and mentally acknowledged the unpleasant twist in his stomach.

He had been afraid. His battle pitch had been higher, his kenki freer. He hadn't been afraid during a fight, not for himself and his own life, in many, many years. He'd been afraid for others, afraid of failure, angry, resigned, annoyed, determined... but not _afraid_ of death. It was odd, that it was.

He turned his feet towards home, stopping to gently reassure Tanaka-dono that the thugs would not bother her again. He was too quiet during dinner, he knew, and Kaoru's pretty mouth was pulled into a frown. He could see the moment that she decided not to ask, her features clearing and her mood turning cheerful.

It was two stories into her account about her adventures in wedding planning with Tae-dono, her eyes bright, her smile brighter, her gestures large and grand, and her face full of affection, that he realized what had happened.

The only people who were afraid were those with something precious to loose; those with a reason, wonderful and terrible, to look forward to tomorrow.

What a tiny price to pay for all that he had been given.


	14. Resolve

_First, a ENORMOUS thanks to my reviewers. If you didn't review I wouldn't have the courage to keep writing, seriously. I'm in a co-dependent relationship with about twenty people I've never met. :D_

I don't often write angst. Tell me if you like it, of if it's miss, this one is a stretch for me.

Set after right before Kenshin leaves for Kyoto, of course.

* * *

 **I HAVE LOVE IN ME THE LIKES OF WHICH YOU CAN SCARCELY IMAGINE AND RAGE THE LIKES OF WHICH YOU WOULD NOT BELIEVE. IF I CANNOT SATISFY THE ONE, I WILL INDULGE THE OTHER.**

 _ **Frankenstein**_ **by Mary Shelly**

Alone in his room, he knelt on the floor and packed his one small bag. The red kimono, Kaoru's gift, was folded neatly to the side. It had been altered to fit him by Kaoru's own hand, cut down until it wouldn't fit most other men. Perhaps Yahiko would grow into someday; for some reason the idea that no one would wear it again made him unspeakably sad.

Ironic that an object that had previously brought him such pride and pleasure now brought heart ache, just by looking at it.

He had stood in this room, his room, arms spread and carefully still as Kaoru had fussed around him. She had chatted nervously while she worked, checking the lines of the shoulders, the length against his wrists, her small warm hands stroking down his back and arms as she adjusted the fit, placing chalk mark and pins. She always chewed at her lower lip when she was nervous, and even back then he had enjoyed the touch of her hands, admired the shining pink flesh as she nibbled, her small straight teeth.

It had made him feel like a part of this place, wearing something that once been her father's. It had been physical evidence that he belonged to the Kamiya Dojo, that he belonged to her. Maybe ten years was long enough, maybe he had finally became a man again, maybe he had finally outran the killer in his own heart. Each day that he wore it, his fingers would trace her small neat stitches and he had felt... so happy. Happy to be here, happy at the thought that he may, somehow, be allowed to keep this for himself. On days when he wore that red kimono, he had hoped that maybe it had finally been enough.

He couldn't even be angry at Saito anymore. The wolf had come calling and he had been forced to acknowledge that a person could not, could never, outrun their own nature.

The idea of Kamiya Kaoru in the arms of a murderer was unacceptable, even if that man was himself. And so he would leave. He would answer the call of his country and continue his struggle alone. He would cut out his heart and leave it here, in this quiet room, on this backstreet of Tokyo, and take his taint far away from this place, far away from her.

His gaze flicked to that red kimono again, and shame and bile rose in his throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, breathed deep, and began to prepare himself.

She deserved to hear it from his own lips.


	15. Rage

So after Kenshin wakes up before they go to Enishi's beach, he chats and he smiles, and his eyes are fierce and furious, and when they land and he just screams his challenge like a wounded thing.

All **spoken dialogue** is lifted **directly** from the Manga, every word belongs to Watsuki, I'm just fleshing out the internal thoughts and reactions. Note that some dialogue is omitted, but none is added.

Originally posted as a free standing one shot until I chickened out and took it down. Anyway, re-edited and reposted.

* * *

Kenshin jolted awake, heart racing. He sat up, suppressing a groan at itchy stitches and aching muscles, and tried to get his bearings. He was in the clinic. His wounds had been treated. Yahiko...Yahiko had been fighting...

Kaoru was alive! Tomoe had told him, had smiled and told him that Kaoru was alive. _That monstrous corpse_ , and Kenshin's thoughts still shied away from that horrific image, _must have been a trick. A lie._ He levered himself out of bed, ignoring the wave of nausea and dizziness, searching for his clothes. _She's still not here; she would have been here when I woke up if she was home._ And if she wasn't home, then Enishi must have her. Enishi had had her for weeks. His knuckles around the sakabatou were white with force.

There were footsteps in the hall, the voices of his friends.

Yahiko's voice, "Kenshin..."

"I'm sorry for all the trouble I've caused," he tried to gentle his expression. "I'm all right now. So, let's go! Take me to where Kaoru-dono is!" His smile felt thin and stiff but it was apparently enough, and everyone began talking over each other, trying to catch him up on all the news.

He was fiercely glad that they would be leaving immediately, but he was, by his own assessment, distressingly injured. Enishi would still be injured also, but presumably he had been resting and eating and healing while Kenshin had spent his own time rotting in Rakinumura. This would be ...difficult.

He was careful; he didn't walk when he could ride, didn't stand when he could sit. They took a carriage to the dock. They were allowed to board the boat. They settled near the rail. And all the while, Kenshin burned. He quivered with rage, vibrated with it, felt as though he was breathing fire.

He breathed in and out slowly, attempting to control his ki, focusing on two goals: he would bring Kaoru home, and he would not slit Enishi like a pig from nose to navel and let carrion birds devour his foul, blighted corpse. _I must be_ _more balanced._ _I cannot fight like this._

Misao was speaking, and he lifted his head to listen. " - Himura-san."

"Huh?"

"What happened to you? You're so damn calm." Kenshin would've laughed if he'd still had the ability.

"It's not that I'm calm. I'm just doing my best to preserve my physical condition since my body hasn't healed completely yet." And now a cry went up that land was cited. "To be honest, the only thing I can do right now is concentrate on my fight with Enishi. I have no spare energy left for other skirmishes...so I'd like to ask all of you a favor before we land." He had all of their attention now. "Lend me your strength." And his friends stared at him as though he had lost his mind, and proceeded to put him in his place. For a moment, the fires dimmed in a rush of affection and gratitude; then the mine exploded.

They boarded the small landing craft quickly, the sailors boiling around them like angry bees. Misao's kunai exploded another mine, straight in their path, and Misao, that young and cheerful girl, gave him a uniquely fierce smile of her own. "On the bull's eye! Great! See, Himura-san? I'll be the first to lend you strength." He gave her his first real smile today.

"Yes, I leave it to you."

Landing was accomplished swiftly, and everyone stood silently for a minute, assessing the beach.

"There seems to be no ambush, but that doesn't mean there's no nobody here, does it?" Aoshi asked.

Sano growled and rolled his shoulder, addressing Kenshin. "So, what are we going to do? Shall we rush to the rescue? Or shall we proceed cautiously?" Kenshin took a small step forward, took a long slow breath, and loosened the leash.

"Enishi!" He screamed. "Do you hear me? It's me!" Dimly, through the blood roaring in his ears, he could hear his friends' shock. "I have come to take Kaoru back with me!" Ten yards away leaves snapped on the trees. "Come! Let's finish our fight under this bright sun!"

The release didn't make him feel better, in fact, in may have been worse. The possessive rage felt good now, bright and hot and energizing. He was loosing sight of why it was important that he regain control. He'd forgotten to add the honorific to Kaoru's name.

"Kenshin..." somebody whispered, and the fact that he couldn't place who it was for a moment helped bring him back to himself a little.

He licked dry lips. "Let's wait for a half hour... This is a private fight between me and Enishi. If possible, I don't want to include anybody else," for several reasons.

"And if nobody appears?" Saito asked.

"In that case, we will employ full speed," in that case he would tear this island to the ground with his wrath, "to get Kaoru-dono back." He'd remembered the honorific. While his friends agreed and shifted restlessly with nerves, Kenshin took a seat. He breathed, and burned, and struggled to regain his control; he must to be calm.

The slimy little bastard demeaning his companions was not aiding his search for equilibrium.

He sat, and waited while his companions fought on his behalf, on Kaoru's behalf. He breathed and burned and struggled and waited.

Finally...Enishi... "Stand up, Battosai."

And there was Yahiko, brave and wounded, snarling out death threats from the depths of his bruised heart. And blessedly, Sano asked the only question that mattered, "Where he hell is Jou-chan?" Kenshin's entire being leaned forward, waiting for the answer. And he got one.

"Geez! Don't walk so quickly!" He could hear her before he saw her. "These shoes make it difficult to walk, don't you know that?" There she was, leaning against a tree. She looked thinner, he thought. Her hair shone blue-black. She seemed out of breath. "And I know nothing about this island." He hardly understood what she was saying anymore, but all that mattered was that she was speaking. "Where the heck am I? Where-" she looked up, "-am I walking..." she was still so far away but he could see her eyes, blue as summer skies. "Everyone! Ken-" Enishi's harsh gesture cut her off, stopped her words before his name passed her lips, but it didn't matter.

She was safe. There were no shadows on her, no pain in her eyes, and she had been scolding Yukoshiro Enishi for being inconsiderate. She was safe; all he had to do was go get her. He stood up and was finally able to leave his destructive rage behind.

"Kaoru-dono. I'll be coming to meet you very soon. Just wait for me over there." _It's not worth it, Kaoru-dono. Don't risk yourself. I will win, and we will go home together._

"Yes," and she was alive to smile for him, and that was everything that mattered. "I will."


	16. Seduction

I"ve been writing some heavy stuff lately, so here's something silly to change the vibe.

Probably only amusing if you have children of your own. :D

* * *

Kenshin grinned into the dishwater, allowing the smile to steal across his face now, where Kaoru couldn't see it. He glanced out the window, could see her taking the laundry from the poles. She had been trying to _seduce_ him today and he was definitely entertained; it was almost worth it to watch her attempts – and her reaction to the results.

Kenji was six months old, and had been teething for over a week. Kenshin had felt four angry welts under the his gums at last count. The baby nursed constantly for comfort, slept little, and demanded an inordinate amount of attention. At this point, if Kaoru had walked into the kitchen, stripped naked, and laid down on the table Kenshin would have considered himself seduced. Truly. His beloved wife, however, appeared to want a little more from their love life, and he would follow her lead.

She really was trying.

.

.

.

It had begun after Kaoru's morning kata, when she had made very deliberate eye contact, then proceeded to make a great show of stretching. He had been sweeping the yard, and his mouth had gone dry watching her. Her lithe arms reached overhead, her back arched as she stood on tiptoe, lush breasts pushed forward. She hummed with pleasure, her expression blissful. She brought her arms down, and strokedover her chest. His breath stuttered at the sight of her small hands on her own body. He had taken one stunned, trance-like step towards her when she'd suddenly yelped and clamped both arms over her breasts.

Kenshin knew that look, although he hadn't seen it in a while. It was happening less often now, but it was unmistakable; the sultry caress had caused her milk to let down, and she'd gone from temptress to embarrassed and soggy mother in an instant. Her face had turned glowing red, and she'd rushed to go change clothes. He'd been left standing alone in the yard, aroused and startled and on the verge of a life-endangering bout of laughter.

She'd been slightly downcast at lunch, but his wife nothing if not resilient. By mid afternoon, she had unveiled her second plan, which apparently involved polishing the already gleaming planking of the porch. She knew, _she knew,_ how he felt about her hips and bottom, and the hands and knees chore was guaranteed to make his hands twitch. He continued to wash the laundry for a moment and watched his wife's posterior swaying back and forth, back and forth... She glanced coyly over her shoulder, and Kenshin's hypnosis snapped.

Who cared if it was mid-day? Kenji was taking a nap for a change, and any visitor to the dojo could damn well come back tomorrow. Kenshin tossed the shirt in the rinse bucket and climbed to his feet, a determined look on his face. He didn't make it halfway to the porch before the distinct cry of an infant ruined their chances.

"Mou!" Kaoru tossed her polishing cloth to the planking in an endearing show of temper and stomped into the house.

.

.

.

It was now after dinner and Kenshin was very, very amused in the resigned way of sexually frustrated parents everywhere. Really, he had been rather flattered by the effort. He watched her a moment longer, then sighed and went to bathe his son.

After helping to bathe, dress and soothe a fussy little boy, Kaoru seemed somewhat wilted. Kenji had cried himself out, and they had perhaps four hours until he woke, demanding to be nursed and rocked and walked. They lay side by side in bed. She stared at the ceiling, apparently coming to a decision, and Kenshin waited silently.

"Kenshin?" She sounded frustrated.

"Yes?"

"...I'm too tired to be on top. Come over here."

"Yes, beloved," and he obliged his sweet, cherished wife with vigor.


	17. Discovery

Another one of those with dialogue lifted verbatim from the Manga, word for word. Please note that a small bit of internal dialogue near the end is also lifted verbatim, those of you that have read the Manga will definately recognize it, but I've underlinedit to avoid any confusion. Again, all spoken dialogue and the underlined bit aren't mine.

This is the last four minutes of the fight with Enishi at the dojo.

* * *

The damnable giant had him pinned to the wall, and there was _no time for this!_ Enishi had already disappeared and _kami-sama_ only knew where Kaoru was. Battle pitch was thrumming in Kenshin's veins and being unable to move had his rage and fear spiraling tight, his heart ready to burst.

Then Sano hit the man like a meteor and Kenshin was free. His sakabatou, his blessed, trusted sakabatou was in his fist and he gained his feet uncaring for anything other than following that point where Enishi had vanished.

"Kaoru-dono." His breath was ragged in his lungs, razors in his chest.

"Kaoru-dono." _Wait, Kaoru-dono, I'm coming. Wait for me until I get there._ He ignored the pain and the blood loss and the blades that used to be air, and kept running. The smoke was disorienting, the familiar shapes of his home shadowed and twisted forms on the edge of his vision. _Where are you?_ He nearly stumbled when the scent of white plum drifted to him, just a whiff.

"The fragrance of white plums." Enishi materialized from the fog. _He shouldn't be here, not yet! He can't be-_ "To me, it is the fragrance of my sister. For you, it is the end-"

"Enishi! What did you do to Kaoru-dono?"

"The fragrance is your guide. Follow it without loosing your way. There you shall find the answer you seek." Enishi stepped back into the smoke, blending away like the specter of a nightmare, and Kenshin didn't care.

 _It was only a moment, just a moment lost with that giant of a man. Enishi couldn't have- Not yet, Kaoru-dono would have fought, it can't be over yet._ Kenshin didn't bother to pursue Enishi, his feet taking him forward and he thought that this must be the way to the training hall.

"Kaoru-dono." _Be safe, Kaoru-dono. Just wait until I get there._

"Look carefully with your eyes!" The voice was from everywhere and nowhere.

"Kaoru-dono!" _Wait for me, Kaoru-dono, I'm coming. I'm coming, please._

"Grieve! Scream! Mourn!" The smell of white plum was nauseatingly intense now. "And then die weeping!" There, the outline of the hall.

"Kaoru-dono!" _Please, please, I'm coming. I'm coming. Please._ He didn't bother to find the door, there was still a hole in the wall as wide as a man, and he forced his limbs, heavy and numb, over the rubble and inside.

Then for moment, the whole world stopped, and Kenshin stared.

There was a sword.

There was a sword in Kaoru's chest and she was pinned against the wall.

But she was still. She was still, when she should have been struggling or crying.

If she was alive, she would've been struggling, pinned like that.

Her eyes were open, and she was still. His mind worked on the problem in that eternity that was truly only a second in time.

She was already dead, and Kenshin reeled from the reality in front of him, his sword dropping from nerveless fingers.

 _What good is Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu..._

 _What good is Himura Kenshin..._

"Kaoru-dono," it was a whisper, a pathetic ribbon of sound, a plea torn from his unworthy mouth.

 _Again. I have failed to protect the person who is most important to me..._

He fell to his knees, ten steps away from her, bracing himself over on shaking arms.

"KAORU." And Kenshin wept.

.

.

.


	18. Memorial

Kenshin is one of three people (himself, Enishi, and Oibore) that really remember Tomoe as a real person. I find that sad.

* * *

.

It was snowing. It was the first this year, and Kenshin sat on the porch, wrapped in his warmest coat and watching the flakes drift down. The first snow always seemed a tribute to Tomoe: such a little thing, a small remembrance of a good woman. So he sat, and watched the snow while Kaoru put the baby to bed. Kaoru was a kind woman at heart...surely she wouldn't mind.

Last winter things had been so busy with Kaoru's pregnancy and then when the baby arrived, busy was an understatement. Kenshin certainly didn't regret any of last winter, but he had missed this little memorial. The first snow would always belong to Tomoe.

"Kenshin?" He looked up, and smiled at his wife, her arms overflowing with blankets. "It's snowing, huh?" She sat down, unfolding quilts. "Kenji's asleep, so there's a little time." And then she unapologetically settled herself into his space, between his feet and against his chest, busily wrapping them both in warm blankets. She shifted, curling into him, her face tucked into his neck, warm and soft. Finally contented, she let out a soft hum.

Kenshin felt a bit conflicted. He couldn't really offer an adequate remembrance to his first wife with his second wrapped around him like a scarf, but asking her to move seemed out of the question; Kaoru was always welcome in his arms.

"Tell me about her."

"Oro?" She looked up and smiled, her eyes as blue as clear skies.

"Tomoe-san. That's what we're doing, right?" She tucked into his neck again. "What was her favorite food? How did she wear her hair? Tell me about her. It's snowing."

Kenshin squeezed her tight, curled around her in return, and told her. Tomoe had not seemed so real nor so close in a long time.

Kaoru was a very kind woman.


	19. Skintime

Bathing babies in Japan is a task customarily assigned to the father in an attempt to promote bonding. It's called "skintime." Pictures of MY son's first bath still make me laugh; tiny babies generally despise water.

Forgive me, Kenshin, I've projected my own experience on to you.

Kenji's first bath.

* * *

"There, that's perfect, so it is." Kenshin dried his hands and turned to the chubby pink baby laying naked on his blanket. The baby looked back, or seemed to be, his blue eyes still unfocused, his legs curled up and his little arm waving unsteadily in the air. There was the basin of suitably warm water, soap and a cloth, several towels and fresh clothes and... baby.

 _Okay, this shouldn't be that hard._ Kenshin picked up his son, carefully supporting the baby's head, and gently lowered his arm, hand and baby into the water.

"Oro!" It was only superior reflexes that kept Kenji safe and Kenshin dry as he executed a drunken pirouette to escape the path of the baby's reflexive urination at the touch of warm water. Leaning against the table, his son cradled close to his chest, Kenshin sat still and panted in surprise while the baby cooed at the unexpected motion. Kenji went back to his blanket and one of those soft towels was used to clean the floor.

"Alright. Maybe a cloth to cover the important parts, eh?" Baby appropriately covered with a small rag, mess on the floor cleaned, Kenshin repositioned them both and tried again. Down went Kenshin's arm and son and this time he managed to keep the baby in the water.

"There now, Kenji-chan, that's not so bad, is it? Now Otou-san will clean you, that I will." _Damn._ The rags were out of reach. One arm, baby, and hand still in the water, Kenshin reached and wriggled and mentally cursed until he managed to drag one of the elusive things within range. Mission accomplished, Kenshin wetted the rag and reached to clean the baby's face. The instant Kenshin's gentle, tentative, cloth-covered hand touched the baby's head, he began to wail.

"Shh, shh, Kenji-chan, it's only water. Otou-san needs to clean you, that I do." The baby was rapidly turning an alarming shade of dark pink, waving tiny fists in outrage, his little legs jerking, splashing water on the floor and on his father.

"Well, Otou-san thinks you are wet enough, that I do." Another wave of water crashed over the edge of basin and soaked into Kenshin's hakama. "So now, it is time for soap, eh?" Kenshin gently soaped his wailing, thrashing, outraged child. The baby's howls took on a strange, high pitched and hoarse quality that reminded Kenshin of nothing so much as an infuriated cat.

"Almost, done, Kenji-chan, just a little bit more." Desperately shuffling his screaming infant, Kenshin rinsed his son. "This is supposed to be _pleasant_ , Kenji-chan." Kenshin gritted his teeth and finished as quickly as possible.

He picked up the dripping, screaming baby and wrapped him in a towel, trying to keep his voice soothing and calm. The baby wasn't buying it. At all. Staggering to his feet his bounced the boy, cooing soothing words until the screams dropped in volume to traumatized whimpering.

Kenshin leaned against the wall and panted, his clothing half soaked, his hair frizzing out of its customary tail. He said silent prayers of thanks that his friends were out and his wife asleep.

That was not something that needed witnessed. Ever.


	20. Festival

I can't fix the vibe of this story and it's driving me crazy!

Prompt: Candy Apple Red; courtesy of: flashfiction 365. tumblr prompts

* * *

Kenshin sat waiting with his baby in his lap and Yahiko fidgeting on his left side. Kenji had both dimpled hands grasping his foot, and he appeared to be contemplating how best to get it into his mouth.

"What's taking them so long?!" Kenshin tried not to smile as Yahiko's fidgeting intensified.

"This one is certain they will be ready soon, Yahiko." Kenji seemed to decide that if he could not bring foot to mouth, mouth to foot would work as well, his small body folding in half, his mouth engulfing on his elusive prize. Kenshin did smile now, disengaging baby from toes and shifting the boy onto his shoulder.

Yahiko sighed. "Ya know he'll cover you in slobber, right? Kaoru'll kill you if they're finally ready to go and your festival clothes are soaked in drool."

"Mm, perhaps. Hand me that cloth, please." Kenshin sat waiting, Yahiko's fidgeting progressing until the boy appeared to be in danger of developing some permanent tick and his son snuffling quietly into his neck.

 _Ah,_ there was Kaoru approaching. Kenshin looked up and smiled and Yahiko quickly caught on, desperately straightening his stripped yukata and staring at the doorway. Kaoru stepped through, her own smile wide and beautiful.

"Kaoru-dono looks even more lovely today than yesterday, that she does." He had learned at least a few things in two years of marriage. He was pleased when his wife blushed prettily.

"Th- thank you, Kenshin." She brushed small hands over her obi, obviously preening. "Tsubame-chan is ready, too." Tsubame stepped through, now fourteen and dressed like the young woman she almost was, her yukata a pretty light green with a white pattern, her obi a blush pink with Kaoru's most elaborate bow. Kenshin rose, stepped around a stuttering Yahiko, and gave Tsubame a gentle smile.

"Tsubame-dono looks lovely as well, so she does. Shall we go?" Then there was the usual flutter of gathering up items and finding shoes and off they went. They met a prettily dressed Tae at the outskirts of the park, and Kenshin began to guide his small group around the area, navigating through the crowd. His family excitedly ranged ahead, exclaiming over various things from the vendors. Kenji looked around with wide eyes, propped on Kenshin's shoulder, his fuzzy head bobbing with the effort.

Kenshin bought roasted corn at the closest vendor. Cheerfully munching his treat, he watched his family playing games (Kaoru won a rather pretty paper fan). He offered the baby the empty cob, smiling as Kenji's eyes crossed as he brought it to his mouth, gumming enthusiastically at the new texture and flavor. While the girls danced, he bought dango. He dabbed a little of the sticky sauce onto the baby's tongue and laughed outright at the face of disgust Kenji made.

On the way home Kenji finally fell asleep against his father's chest, chubby hands griping his collar tightly, his small lips parted and his face peaceful. Yahiko walked Tsubame and Tae home, turning left while Kenshin and Kaoru went right. He allowed his hand to rest on her back, gently guiding her through the crowds towards home. Kenshin laid Kenji in his basket, and smiled over at his wife as she lingered in the doorway.

"He'll want to nurse soon." Kaoru's eyes were dark and shining in the dim light of their bedroom. "There's really no point in going to sleep quite yet, if he'll wake us anyway." He raised an eyebrow and waited; clearly his wife had something in mind.

"Would you like for me to pour you some sake on the porch?" He smiled.

Kenshin sat on the porch and spoke quietly with his wife and waited for his son to wake. _This was perfect_ , he thought, sipping sweet sake and watching the summer stars.


	21. Right

Nursing someone back to health isn't glamorous and is potentially embarrassing. Kaoru is openly protective and quite possessive and I can't see her letting anyone else take care of those she considers her own.

Placement is obvious.

Prompt: Shreds of Doubt. flashfiction 365. tumblr prompts

* * *

Kaoru shifted Kenshin's arm as it lay over her shoulders, adjusted her grip on his waistband. "Almost there." He hummed an affirmative, carefully moving his feet while she helped support his weight. It had been several days now since they'd come home from the island, days of recovery, and Kenshin was strong enough to walk to the bath house – with a little help.

Sano and Yahiko had already made the trip and were sleeping now. They were all recovering well, but little things were still enough to have them sleeping for hours afterward. Kaoru had helped the others, too. Less so, yes, they weren't as injured as Kenshin, but they had needed the bath house prepared and their wounds re-dressed and settled back into bed after they were done. That had been more comfortable than this.

Doing what she had done, helping them bathe and eat and dress, that was the role of a family member. Those actions were the duty, were the right and place and privilege of a mother or daughter, a sister or wife. With Sano and Yahiko it had been easy because she was secure in her place- there was no shared blood, but for those two, Kaoru _was_ a sister. She was the little sister, and the older sister, to be teased and protected.

She helped Kenshin up the steps, shut the shoji, and helped him undress, careful of his many bandages and wounds. She fiercely willed herself not to blush. Kenshin was quiet, helping when he could and standing as steady as possible. She was not his family, not his wife, and this was not her place, but she still needed to do this.

With Kenshin she was... ambiguous. Oh, Kaoru knew that she loved him like she loved herself, like she loved kenjutsu, like she loved the sun, and she knew that Kenshin loved her in return. Still though, there was nothing formal between them and she probably should have let Aoshi do this. That just seemed so _wrong_ though, and she did not ask and Aoshi had never offered.

She helped Kenshin undress, helped him down to the slatted floor (he was not steady enough to sit on the stool), put the things he needed within reach. She turned away, kneeling and waiting while he cleaned those parts of himself that he could.

"That's... that's all this one can do now, Kaoru-dono, so it is." She turned back and gave him a small smile, turning her attention to her task, washing his legs and feet, his uninjured arm and back. She was carefully thorough with his hair; the sketchy washing she'd been able to do in his room had not been adequate and his hair had suffered for it.

She soaped it twice, gently massaging his scalp, carefully scratching with her fingernails to work loose all the fine crystals of salt and sand. She probably should have been embarrassed by the small noises of pleasure that escaped him while she did the task, but she found that she wasn't.

She rinsed his hair and was done. She helped him dry himself, and he sat patiently, wrapped in a towel, while she redid his bandages. She could feel the fine tremors of his fatigue under her fingertips. She helped him dress then knelt behind him and quickly brushed his hair, trying to finish before he exhausted himself. After she was done, he leaned heavily against her, his back to her front, and she leaned back into him, holding him up and allowing him a brief rest before the walk back to his room.

She felt so tangled and conflicted and yet Kenshin appeared completely serene. They sat together and she couldn't keep the questions contained any longer.

"Kenshin?" Her voice was quiet.

"Yes, Kaoru-dono?"

"Should I... Should I ask Aoshi-san to do this next time?" _Am I wrong? Am I selfish? Have I misunderstood?_

He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "No." He reached back and caught her hand with his own. "No, Kaoru-dono. It is your right." He paused. "It will be your right."

* * *

Kaoruca, who stated: "It's a Kenshin's way of implying what he feels and plans to do"

True, in a way. I think that Kenshin considered their future openly settled by this point, which is why he was content to let Kaoru care for him in this manner. In fact, _I_ think he considered it settled when he declared himself home after Kyoto and I think that he considered things really _very_ settled after their little conversation about staying together forever.

I wrote Kaoru feeling a little doubt in the face of a very intimate moment, as Kenshin may have verbally declared himself but really there is no _formal_ relationship at all. It's not really another declaration, just reassurance, that yes _of course_ we'll get married, just as soon as I can walk. ;P


	22. Jitters

Because at some point, every bride panics. :)

* * *

Kaoru owned two kimono that were appropriate for a wedding reception. There were four obi that might be worn with those two kimono. Her best undergarments had been laid out and Tae had looked them over with little tutting sounds of disapproval. Kaoru's mothers jewelry had been retrieved from their little box and laid out, piece by piece, for selection. Kaoru needed new tabi.

The wedding was three days away, and it should be fun. It should be like playing with dolls. It should make her feel petted and fussed over and excited. Today, it just made her feel like vomiting from sheer nervousness.

Tae had run home to fetch a particular hairpin that would look nice with the kimono that had the white and yellow flowers. Kaoru stood in the center of her bedroom and practiced calm breathing, trying _not_ to visualize everything she could do that would humiliate herself, embarrass Kenshin, and shame her family.

"Kaoru-dono? This one thought you might like a cup to tea, so I did." Kaoru turned to him, a hand pressed to her rioting stomach. He stood in the doorway, holding a tea tray and looking so delightfully _Kenshin_ that she smiled despite herself.

"Yes, thank you, Kenshin. That would be nice." She started to gesture to her little table but realized that it was currently strewn with her underthings. She made a little _eep_ of panic and snatched them up, hiding them behind her back, her breathing taking on an edge of hysteria. He smiled at her gently and sat the tea tray down with his customary care.

"Kaoru-dono," he approached her, his sweet eyes tranquil. "You have no need to be nervous, that you do not. It is only this one, and our friends." Kaoru willed herself to calm, trying to believe him, trying to regain her even breathing, trying to keep her body angled in such a way that he couldn't see her best underwear clenched in her white knuckled grip.

And then she dropped her forgotten clothes to the floor when she was suddenly pulled into an warm embrace. " All be well, that it will," his voice was quiet, next to her ear. She feel his words as well as hear them, a mild vibration in his firm chest as it pushed against her breasts. He was very warm, and he smelled like sandalwood and ginger and _man_. His body was as hard as stone, all whipcord lean muscle and angles, and feeling it pressed tightly against her was very different than admiring him from afar. For some strange reason her nose started to tingle.

It was over as suddenly as it begun, and Kaoru was certain that he probably said something before he left the room, but she just stood there. She stood there surrounded by clothes and nonsense and she couldn't have cared less. She knelt suddenly enough to make her knees protest but it didn't really register. Her blind groping turned up a fan for her burning cheeks.

 _Oh my._


	23. Protection

I've always wondered why Kaoru didn't just tear Kenshin to pieces over the way he puts Yahiko forward and keeps her back from fights. This little piece was born out of that curosity, but it's honestly sort of terrible. I can't get the sentence structure to flow correctly, and I am just DONE torturing it. Drabbles are supposed to be relaxing, dammit!

* * *

Kaoru had accepted his leadership in the fight in Kyoto, did not challenge Kenshin's decisions when they were in danger. She had stood straight, head up, and refused to sow division in their group while in the presence of an enemy. Now that they were safe and alone and healing, however...

"How could you!" Kaoru was in a towering rage. "How could you set my student, _my student_ , to guard the Aoiya and belittle me by trying to keep _his master_ back?" Kenshin didn't defend himself, didn't protest. He didn't explain _._ She snarled and railed, and he took it all, and waited until her fury was spent. He reached out, touched her hand gently.

"This one is sorry that you were hurt by my actions, that I am." And that was it.

After she learned about his past, about poor Tomoe-san, when they were all home again after Enishi's Jinchuu, she thought she understood better. He had been unable to risk her because his heart couldn't bear the loss of another precious woman. Even so, it left her feeling vaguely dissatisfied.

As her husband, he let her teach, let her spar, and never once spoke against it. He massaged sore muscles and rubbed ointment on enormous bruises. He praised her abilities to her students and to strangers and never once seemed to perceive a contradiction.

It wasn't until she was pregnant that she finally, truly, understood.

It was night, and they were alone. She was sewing, and he'd sat behind her, wrapped around her, his hands on her curving belly. He was trying to feel the baby move, and she listened to him gasp and laugh as tiny fists and feet pressed into his palms.

He had not protected her because he thought her weak, she realized, nor because she was a woman. In the face of true danger, he had protected her, even all that time ago, because of _this_. Because she was the mother of his children-to-be, because she carried his future within her very body. Kaoru smoothed the tiny blanket she embroidered, and wondered for exactly how long Kenshin had carried the hope for _this future_.

And she smiled, content.

* * *

To all of my reviewers, thank you! You are all, honestly, the only reason I keep posting.

Especially Jasmine Blossom 625, Kaoruca, and kenkao4ever; you guys are awesome, thanks. :)


	24. Love rated M

Because being over thirty doesn't mean you're dead. (I'm thirty-five, so there!)

* **HEED THE _M_ RATING** kiddies, but it's not really smut and I don't intend it to be a habit, so I won't change the story rating as a whole, just this one*

* * *

 _Twenty years._ They'd been married twenty years today. Kaoru smiled and placed the last flower into the vase that Hiko had sent. _Maybe we should eat out tonight._ Kenji was home, and had taken his siblings to the river to play and fish today, and Kaoru had no compunctions about continuing to press him into babysitting duty.

A clatter at the gate, and for a moment Kaoru thought that the children were home until she recognized her husband's distinctive footsteps. _Ah, he's home early!_ He appeared in the kitchen, always unerringly able to find her in the house.

Her husband was still such a very handsome man, and at forty-nine now looked roughly her thirty-eight, his bright hair still bright and now long again, his dear face marked with only a few more lines than when they had met. He was wearing that lovely green kimono, the one that contrasted so nicely with his exotic coloring, and his white hakama hadn't suffered too badly from road dust today. Kaoru sighed happily.

"Kaoru-dono, the flowers look very nice, that they do." He sat down his traveling things, and he must have made his rounds very quickly indeed to be home so early. He took out a small package and placed it on table, circling around behind her to pull into a one armed embrace, her back against his chest.

Kaoru squealed a little, and quickly unwrapped the package. "Chocolate," she whispered, lifting one of the little pieces to her mouth.

"It's not really your present, but this one saw them this morning on my rounds and-"

"Shut up, Kenshin, I'm eating chocolate." He chuckled into her hair, and it vibrated pleasantly through his chest. Kaoru rolled the treat around her mouth, the imported stuff such a rare and delightful extravagance that it deserved to be savored. It was far too sweet to eat more than one or two anyway... maybe three... Then Kenshin's hand shifted south, and his smiling mouth found pleasant occupation with her neck.

"Kenshin?" He turned her to face him, both hands and mouth still traveling downward.

"...The children are all out, so they are..." His words were mumbled around his current mouthful. Kaoru was still for a moment, then began to cheerfully, and rapidly, strip them both in the bright sunshine of the kitchen. There was a fair bit of giggling like newlyweds and she was going to have more than one bruise in an awkward place later, but it was all worth it.

Laying on their dining table, she caressed all of his skin that she could reach and cooed encouragement, wrapping one strong leg over his waist and letting him bend up the other one until she could have licked her own kneecap (Kamiya Kasshin Ryu came with some benefits, afterall). She pulled the tie out of his hair and enjoyed the feel of the silky stuff against her skin. _He's still so beautiful,_ she thought, smiling up at him.

A clatter at the gate made them both freeze, looking toward the noise as though they could see through walls.

"If you stop now, Kenshin, I'll have to kill you." He huffed a laugh, his attention returning to the task at hand with greater intensity, a very real need to finish up before they were caught by irreparably damaged children.

Finally, he jerked and shivered and collapsed against her chest. Kaoru petted his bright head as he panted into her breastbone, and subtly slipped her leg into a position that didn't require eye-crossing amounts of concentration to maintain. She let him cool down for a ten count, then unceremoniously rolled him off of her and began pulling her clothes back on, tossing him his own.

She was retying her hakama when he said it, for the forth time in twenty years:

"I love you."

She gasped, and dropped the ties, and she had to look ridiculous with her hair a mussed disaster and her mouth kiss-swollen and her hakama around her ankles and he had just said-

"Kenshin?" He had gotten his own clothing back on, and he was looking at her through his bangs while he finished his own ties. He crossed over to her and cradled her face in his sword calloused palms, pressed his forehead to hers.

"You are my wife, Kaoru, the mother of my children, and all of my reasons to smile for the last twenty years. Thank you." He pressed a small, chaste kiss to her mouth and stepped away, heading towards the door to intercept their children. Kaoru pressed a hand to her lips, happy tears pooling in her eyes.

"Oh, that man," her words were a shaky whisper. She tied a wobbly knot in her hakama and plopped down next to the table. "That man..." She popped another piece of chocolate into her mouth and chewed while she sniffled.


	25. Heartstrings

Prompt: Heartstrings: flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts

* _A note on Kenshin's temper_ : Yeah, I really believe the man has a temper. I have a temper myself, and people always acted surprised when I say that, and say that they've never seen me angry, and I always reply: Of course you haven't!

Part of having a hellaceous temper is learning to control it.

Kenshin's temperament has always reeked of a person having excellent control of a fierce temper. I've always thought that Kenshin joined the revolution because of a belly full of fire at the injustice of things, and of course in the Manga there are several examples of him having been pushed past that excellent control of his.

* * *

Kaoru paused mid-stretch. The usual sounds of her husband working and her son playing were suspiciously absent. Her post-lessons fatigue forgotten in favor of curiosity, she finished her bows and leave taking, seeing her students out the gate. Then she turned and began a search.

 _Oh._ She pressed a hand to her mouth, standing in the yard and watching her boys as they sat on the porch. _It must have been an exciting day._

Kenshin sat propped against a pillar, eyes closed and breathing even, his now-short hair rustling in the light breeze . Four year old Kenji was cuddled in his father's lap, fast asleep, his still chubby hands gripping his favorite toy horse and one sandal hanging crazily off of his little foot.

Kaoru's heart warmed with affection; they looked so very much alike. Kenji's hair had darkened as he became a toddler, turning from his fire-bright baby tuft to a more sedate mahogany and, of course, he had always had her eyes. In every other way, however, he was a physical miniature of his father, from his narrow chin to his sharp nose. She'd initially been surprised by his brash and stubborn attitude, but Kenshin had laughingly asked her exactly what she thought he himself had been like as a child.

She'd been shocked; her mild-mannered, nurturing husband a moody, demanding child? She'd always peripherally understood that Kenshin had a temper. His anger had once helped to change the face of an entire country, after all. And his rage when she had been threatened in the past had been staggering.

" _It will be fine, Kaoru-dono, that it will. We will be patient, and provide him with focus and discipline and love. He will learn to control his temper. Better and sooner than this one did, one is certain."_ And her husband was true to his word, his plan, ever patient and affectionate and firm with their son.

Through it all, Kenshin smiled his _real_ smile. From very early in their relationship, Kaoru had noticed that Kenshin closed his eyes when his smiles were false. His true smiles crinkled the skin at the edges of his eyes and they stayed open, warm and content and focused on the thing that had made him happy. He'd given her that smile since their courting days. He'd smiled like that at simply everything during her pregnancy. He smiled like that at their son even when Kenji was at his most trying.

Kenshin adored children, really loved them, loved them as little people with their own opinions and flaws and challenges. He rarely seemed to mind that Kenji was often difficult, just smiled and gently, firmly, redirected the little boy into more appropriate behavior, patiently guiding him on his path. And Kenji, dear, beloved child that he was, pushed back and fought and argued and pulled hair and misbehaved.

And then her beloved boys would turn around and do things like this.

They would sleep curled around each other in a sunbeam. Or Kenji would catch a toad or some such thing, and they would name the thing and lay side by side on their bellies and admire what a very fine toad it really was. Or Kenshin would bring home some small toy or a trinket from the market and spend hours teaching Kenji to play with it or use it. It was during these times, these moments when Kenji was calm and receptive and affectionate, that Kaoru could see her husband's spirit shining through her son's face.

And now, even asleep, Kenshin was smiling as he cuddled their son on the porch. Kaoru's greatest wish for her husband was that one day he would have crow's feet wrinkles next to his eyes, evidence that he had spent many happy years smiling that real smile. It was exhausting, but surely one of her life's greatest accomplishments was having given this man a child.

Kaoru absently stroked her belly. _It's going to be even more tiring, soon. I hope we're ready for this._ She quietly stepped passed them, into the house, to make dinner while they napped. _I'll tell him tonight._


	26. Blue

Prompt: Eyes of Blue (s) : flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts

Japanese names are HARD! What do you think? How many kids did they have? What are some good names for their kids? Give me some ideas, I need them for undisclosed reasons. :D

(Ironically, I had resolved to stop writing drabbles this week and start fleshing out my new big story, but these are just so much easier...)

* * *

It had been a easy birth, comparatively. Kaoru's labor had only lasted six hours, and the painful, awful pushing had taken a blessedly short twenty minutes. Only half a night after her first pains, Kenshin sat wrapped around his wife of the last twelve years, his chin on her shoulder, watching her feed their newborn daughter.

He'd been starting like a smitten fool for the last half hour. The baby's head was covered in surprisingly long black hair, and she had petal soft skin, and a beautiful bow shaped mouth. He smiled, and stared, and reached out a reverent hand to stroke the baby's soft hair. Her tiny mouth paused when he touched her, and her eyes scrunched tight.

Then she opened those eyes and Kenshin gasped. _Blue_. Blue like Kaoru's eyes, blue like Kenji's eyes, but different. Her eyes were the blue of blue jasmine, ringed in a rich tone several shades darker. Unfocused and vaguely annoyed at the interruption, she blinked and waved a tiny fist, bopping her mother.

"Oh, Kenshin." Kaoru's voice was an awed whisper. "Kenshin, do you think they'll change? I hope they stay like that. How pretty..."

"We should name her Hitomi, with eyes like that." Kenshin's voice was soft. Kaoru made a slightly rude noise, obviously trying not to laugh.

"We should name her "Jun" and hope for the best, with that rabble of brothers she's got." Kenshin laughed.

"Kaoru!" It was difficult to scold, and laugh, and stare like a besotted idiot all at once. "No daughter of ours is likely to be "obedient," beloved." He kissed Kaoru's temple and tightened his arms, taking more of her weight against him, and continued to admire his youngest child.

 _Beautiful._


	27. Worth

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts: Prompt Sick in Bed

Set very early, before Yahiko joined them.

Because so much of Kenshin's meager self worth is tied into what he can DO for others, and so little in who he IS.

* * *

Kenshin was a very strong-willed man. It was this bone-deep stubborn streak that had kept Kaoru ignorant of his illness until one morning when she'd entered the kitchen to find him making breakfast with fever-bright eyes and flushed cheeks, his voice a feeble croak.

She'd been furious, but how could she yell at him when he was obviously so ill? She'd not said a word, not trusted herself to speak without screaming, and had bundled him into bed despite his feeble, raspy protests. Carefully steeped medicinal tea and an uncomfortably warm fire were placed in his room, and she had finished breakfast, her jaw aching with repressed irritation.

He'd lain meekly in bed until around noon, when she'd had to chase him indoors again before he could take the laundry down from its poles. He had tried to help make dinner that night, too, displaying mulish tendencies that had Kaoru both wanting to pet him and beat him sensless.

He was still awake, or perhaps just awake again, when Kaoru herself was ready for bed. She selected a book and sat with him, reading pages until she was satisfied that he was out for the night.

.

He was not better the next day, nor the day after. Kaoru canceled her lessons at other dojos, staying close to home. She ran the household and cared for her reluctant ruruoni, bringing tea and rice and soup, bathing his forehead and monitoring his fever, reading to him and playing Shoji when he was restless.

On the fourth day, he didn't protest when she made breakfast without him so she went for the doctor. That night, she slept in his room.

.

She blinked awake to weak sunlight and violet eyes watching her. His fever must have broken at some point before morning, and he seemed much improved to her sleepy eyes.

"Good morning, Kaoru-dono." His voice was still a little odd.

"Good morning, Kenshin." She sat up from her nest on the floor, reaching over to feel his not-flushed face, smiling at the lack of heat. "You seem better. How do you feel?"

"This one is much better today, so I am." He paused, and seemed to be watching her carefully now, looking for something in her face. "This one should be fine to be up again, so I should."

Kaoru interrupted his polite nonsense with a frustrated noise. "Don't be so silly, Kenshin." She began to fold up her quilts. "You should stay in bed today, too." He made the beginning of a weak objection and she glowered at him. "You need to recover, you know. I'll bring you some books, and I'll be able to play some games with you this afternoon. Would you like the things to write some letters, maybe?" She waited for his answer, holding his gaze.

He looked so _confused_ , and Kaoru didn't understand. "This one is sorry to have been the cause of so much trouble, Kaoru-dono. Really, this one is much better now, and should be able to do some small chores, that I should." He began to sit up, lacking his customary grace, his hair messy and his yukata wrinkled, and for once he looked as human as everyone else. Kaoru frowned for a moment, and then figured it out, all in a rush. She suppressed the strange urge to laugh, all tangled up between sorrow and compassion and irritation.

She reached out, pushing him gently, firmly, back down onto his futon. "Kenshin." Her voice stopped his pointless objections. "Your health is worth more to me than laundry." Her wanderer looked surprised, and her heart broke for him a little. "This house has ran fine while you've been ill and it will run fine without you today, too." She realized that the repeated way she was smoothing the collar of his robe was almost a caress, and stopped, blushing, and patted him awkwardly over his heart.

"Kenshin." Her voice was quiet now. "Today... just rest."


	28. Vanity

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts: Over the Hill

Set post canon by several years – probably ten?

* * *

A letter from Aizu was always welcome, and moreso than usual right now. Kaoru set it on the table, prominently, and then lay in wait. She didn't bother hiding, that would be ridiculous, she merely occupied herself with some mending as nonchalantly as possible. _Ah, here he comes._

Her husband entered and she bit her lips to keep from smiling at the picture he made. He had a tub of clean folded laundry balanced in his arms, one small child riding piggyback and another running in excited circles at his feet. Their strange, adorable parade moved from the main room to the bedrooms and back, delivering clean clothes and chatting about squirrels and some type of new and interesting bug that they had found in the yard. Inevitably, they returned to her as she knew that they would. She had tea cakes, after all.

"Come have tea, everyone!" There was the usual fuss of getting wriggly children settled, and then Kaoru poured tea and distributed cakes. She picked up her mending again, trying to resist sending Kenshin sidelong glances. _He's so cute, though._ And he was, his hair frazzled from small hands, his kimono slightly damp, and a distracting amount of firm tanned skin visible at his collar.

"We have a letter today, Kaoru-dono?" He nodded at the bait.

"Mm, I've been waiting for you so that we could read it together."

"Ah." Did he look slightly less pleased than he should?

"Why don't you read it aloud, Kenshin?" And she gestured with her mending, clearly occupied. If she were anyone else, if they had not been married for as long as they had, she would have entirely missed his subtle grimace. He reached out, broke the seal,and smoothed the letter on to the table. She waited. He cleared his throat and took a sip of tea. She waited a little more. He shifted nervously on his seat. She pounced.

"Aha! I knew it!"

"Oro!"

"Confess!"

"Oro?"

"Kenshin! You need reading glasses!"

"This one does _not_ need glasses, Kaoru-dono!' She sat aside her mending.

"Prove it." Her smile was predatory and he was sweating now. He picked up the letter, looking pained, and proceeded to slowly extend it out at arm's length, his beloved face scrunched a little.

"Kenshin," she reached forward and plucked letter from his grasp. "Either you need glasses- or you need longer arms."

* * *

'Cause reading glasses and that low ponytail would just be- mmhmm _yum_.


	29. Kiss

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts :Something Witnessed

Because my husband used to smile while kissing me and it was the sweetest compliment I ever received. :)

* * *

Kissing Kaoru made him feel like he was standing in sunshine, warm and happy. She was the only woman he had ever kissed that was shorter than he was, and he had found that he liked it, liked being bigger than she was, liked the way she leaned into him. After she had gotten used to it, Kaoru kissed with her whole self, pressed into him, and her weight was pleasant. The curves she enthusiastically pressed against him were more than pleasant.

He shifted a hand to the back of her head, felt the string pull against his sleeves and for a moment he remembered that they were in the kitchen and that maybe mid-day in the center of their home was not the most prudent place to kiss his young wife silly. Then she made a happy little noise and shifted, stroking a calloused hand against his chest and he forgot everything except her.

He pressed back against her, crowded her gently backwards, pressed her against the high table. A large radish rolled off, and the _thump_ as it hit the floor registered only dimly. Before he'd married this woman, he'd not known that it was possible to kiss and smile at the same time, but apparently it was. Every time he kissed her, he smiled into her mouth. During the pause between kisses, Kaoru kept tracing the upturned corners of his lips and he knew that she was pleased to see him grinning like the smitten fool that he was.

She was so warm, her mouth was soft and clever, and she smelled like flowers...

"Aaaaaahh!"

A traumatized scream fractured the peace and Kenshin leapt backwards, landing in a startled heap against the far wall.

"Yahiko!" Kaoru's voice cracked like a whip. "What are you doing?!"

"Vomiting!" He shrieked. "That's disgusting! I can't un-see that!" The boy should have known better; a surprised and embarrassed Kaoru in a kitchen... She chased him out the door, the two of them shouting insults, kitchen implements and vegetables flying in a barrage of impromptu weaponry.

"Oro," Kenshin groaned and picked himself up, dusting off the seat of his hakama. _The kitchen was definitely_ not _the place to be kissing Kaoru_. He looked around the disaster that had been his well-ordered kitchen and grinned to himself. _Well, not on Yahiko's training days, anyway._


	30. Finis

This is not the end of my drabble collection, it actually refers to the end of Kenshin, you see. I was experimenting with a stronger narrative voice, and it's definitely different. What do you think?

* * *

It was on a day like any other, the day that Kamiya Kenshin, Himura Kenshin, Shinta, died.

He had contracted an inflammation of the lungs shortly before the new year, and it had been a slow path to recovery. He _had_ recovered, with care and warmth and an excessive amount of unfortunate tasting tea, but he had not been able to recuperate fully. He had heard his children speaking quietly at night, worrying about his light, persistent cough. He had endured his wife's fussing and coddling with the patient understanding that was, perhaps, his greatest defining characteristic. And now it was early spring and a second illness had come, too close on the heels of the first, and he knew that he was going to die. More nasty tea had eased his cough, but it had failed to break his fever and the fluid in his lungs had him short of breath and dizzy even while resting.

His children and his grandchildren had all been called home, and his friends had come for judiciously brief but heartfelt visits. He had been allowed, with carefully washed hands, to cradle his second great-grandchild for the first and last time; she was a beautiful baby, with wispy black hair and her father's eyes. The Kamiya dojo had only rarely been this full, brimming with people that Kenshin loved, with people that all adored him in return.

He would be the first of the Kenshin-gumi to die, he would be survived by all of his children and all of his grandchildren, and the knowledge filled him with selfish joy. That he had been allowed to spend over half of his life in this place, caring for these people and that he had not had to spend a single day enduring their loss was a blessing of inestimable value. For a man so marked by early tragedy, he had a deep appreciation for the lack of sorrow he had had to endure for the last forty years.

Forty years in this place. The Kamiya dojo had been his _home_ , the nexus of his life, for forty years. This had been his bedroom for all of that time. Laying in bed, he was wrapped carefully in soft blankets stitched by his wife and daughter, his daughters in law, and that one quilt with the ragged, mangled embroidery from the hand of his eldest, tomboy granddaughter, the one that always made him smile. The ceiling above him was as familiar as his own hand, it's lines and planks a reassuring presence. There was a small spider in the left lower corner this week, spinning a small web, and Kenshin smiled at it, keeping its secret from his scrupulously clean daughter in law. He had always rather liked house spiders. They ate flies, after all.

His room was full of afternoon sunshine and it pleased him. He had never thought as a young man on those dark and blighted streets of Kyoto that he would have the honor of dying in bed in the sunshine. But- time was short, and he had one more task to complete. He turned his head to observe his wife, napping at his side.

She was tired, he knew; she had been so worried for him. She looked so different now from that day when they had first met; she had been a lovely girl then, full in the flush of youthful beauty. To this day he thought her beautiful, and the changes that time had wrought in her were precious to him; they were evidence of the life that she had lived at his side. She disliked the changes in her figure, in the body that had given him his beloved children. She fussed over the wrinkles, the lines that she had engraved with the thousands of smiles she had given him. Honestly, though, her gray hair was his favorite; it was not greying evenly and instead it layed in thick ribbons, rivers of silver, and it suited his bold girl.

He smiled, jostled her a bit, woke her. "Kaoru?" His voice was soft. Her beloved eyes opened, blinking away sleep and dreams, focusing on him.

"Kenshin?" Ah, the way she always said his name, it made his chest twinge even after all this time.

"Kaoru- beloved, it's time, I think."

"Oh!" She sat up fully, her small hands patting his chest and cheeks, tears in her eyes. "I'll- I'll go get the kids-"

"No," he caught one calloused hand in his own. "I've already said goodbye to them, Kaoru. It's just us." His only hesitation now was this woman, was knowing that his death would bring her pain.

She sighed and her body relaxed, the panic and fight leaving her, and she slumped slightly. She looked down at their hands, stroked her fingers over his. "You promised-" her voice was trembling with those tears. "You promised, not to ever tell me goodbye again." She met his gaze, and there was acceptance there, in her sorrow.

"Ah, it's not goodbye, beloved... It's a journey without farewells." She smiled through her tears, recognizing his words from so long ago. "A beginning without an end."

"I will be more than a little lonely without you," she objected gently. "But... I'll be fine, you know. I have the kids, and our friends." She paused. "I don't know that to say," she finally whispered. "There aren't words for this."

He wished that he could raise his arm, wanted to stroke her bangs away from her eyes. "Kaoru... Thank you." She sniffed, wiped her cheeks.

"Yes." Ah, she was so brave, his girl. "Yes, that's the right word, isn't it? ...Thank you." And her sweet blue eyes closed, and she leaned forward, pressing her mouth to his for the last time in a countless succession, and he closed his own eyes, kissed her back with love. She pulled away, just a bit, pressed her forehead to his and shared his breath for a moment.

It was then that he let go; he let go of his body and it was not a slither or a pop or a slink. No, it was an _explosion:_ upwards, fast and dizzy and spinning. It was the rush of a thousand dancing, joyous exploding golden suns, whirling up and outward, around and through, laughing without sound, singing without voice.

Release.

Completion.

On a day like any other.


	31. Rejuvenate

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts: Prompt: Take It Away

Ugh. Being bipolar just completely blows. Except my updates to slow dramatically for the next 6 weeks or so, just these 350 words were hard.

Because I think that Kenshin finds such rejuvenation in the simplicity of his home.

* * *

Kenshin's steps dragged, kicking up more miserable road dust. He'd been gone over two weeks instead of the promised four days, and he rather regretted his entire involvement in the miserable affair. The simple escort of the foreign diplomat was really just a gesture on the part of Uramura, offering his best (a war hero of considerable accomplishment) to the kind foreign man and lining Kenshin's pocket in the process. Unfortunately, the diplomat had taken quite a liking to Kenshin and had requested his company for the duration of the conference.

Two weeks of _politics_. Kenshin felt wilted. The Kamiya dojo's gate looming in the twilight had only rarely been such a welcome sight. He opened the gate quietly and stood statue still, looking at his family with wide eyes.

It was nearly full dark and summertime, which meant the children should have been in bed, but they were not. No, six year old Kenji was wide awake in his yukata, brandishing a small stick and sprinting across the yard toward two small neighbor girls that Kaoru sometimes watched, both similariy dressed for bed, both similarly wielding "swords."

"You won't win, Dragon-san!" _Miyuki-chan,_ he thought.

"Yeah!" Her sister, Aki, taunted, waving her own stick.. "You can't get passed us!" Also dressed for bed and sitting on the porch, a giggling Kaoru had a hand pressed to her mouth, their youngest son snoozing in her lap. "We'll protect the princess!" And the two little girls charged, chasing Kenji around the yard, threatening everything from violence to tickling, and Kaoru watched and laughed, and smoothed their son's hair as she cheered the girls' efforts.

Standing at the gate, Kenshin watched too, until the children lost interest in the game and began chasing fireflies. Kaoru noticed him there and smiled.

"Okaerinasai!" She called.

Kenshin smiled in return, closing the gate and stepping towards his family. "Tadaima."


	32. Off

Set very early, before Yahiko joined them.

Because Kaoru's ability to choose happiness in the face of sorrow is a skill set that Kenshin needs. This is a bit of Kenshin's first impressions of her.

* * *

Kamiya Kaoru had the soul of a samurai, and she was born twenty years too late for it be to be given wings. Her mother had died when she was young, and her lack of feminine training had drastically decreased her bride-value. Her father was dead, her family legacy was in jeopardy, and her income barely sustained her. By rights, Kaoru should have been a sad girl when she found him on that street.

Instead, Kaoru was fierce and angry. She was bold and reckless and lectured him about family honor with fire in her eyes. When her world went wrong, Kamiya Kaoru had gone out to fix it.

When the debacle with the Hiruma brothers was over, when it was clear that she'd been betrayed and targeted, she should have been bitter. Kenshin knew that she'd cried that night, alone in her room, and he'd expected to find her spirit diminished by the experience. That morning at breakfast, however, she was smiling and chatting about her plans for the day, and Kenshin watched her closely while pretending that he wasn't.

He was confused to find that she was not masking sadness and bitterness and pain; she was truly happy. Although she had a dozen profound reasons _not_ to be happy, she simply was; it radiated from her spirit, shone in her face. It filled the dining room and pressed warmly against the torn, ragged edges of him.

It was fascinating.

It was a little concerning. It was possible that she was a bit off, he supposed. It bore watching.


	33. Together

Because Kaoru is really very young, and she's married to a very handsome man.

.

 **He felt now that he was not simply close to her, but that he did not know where he ended and she began. ~Leo Tolstoy**

* * *

Kenshin knew that it was still night before he even opened his eyes. All of his senses confirmed that it was still night, that he was safe in Kamiya house, in his bed, twined around his wife and thus he allowed himself the luxury of coming awake slowly. It was night; why was he awake? He blinked the top of his wife's dark head into focus. _Ah,_ Kaoru was awake. Why was Kaoru awake? His fuzzy mind turned it over.

He pulled back to focus on her face, or tried to, and was stopped by an odd tugging on his scalp. His young wife made an odd squeaking sound and looked up from her position under his chin, her blue eyes luminous in the dark. Careful of whatever was wrong with his hair, he managed to light the bedside lamp with sleep-clumsy fingers.

Kaoru's face was pink with embarrassment, her bottom lip was pulled in between her teeth, and her small hands frozen in place. He focused down on her, and felt his mouth turn up at the corners. There in her pale fingers was their hair, plaited together in a braid, bright red and inky black.

"Um, Kenshin, I didn't mean... I'm sorry that I woke you up- I- it was-" and her nimble fingers began to untwist their hair. He covered her hand with his own, settling back into the soft comfort of their bed.

"No," his voice was gentle. "Leave it." He pulled her up into a slow, sleepy, thorough kiss, tracing the contours of her mouth with his own, a dozen kisses masquerading as one, his hand tracing her jaw and neck, coaxing her to relax back into his body. He withdrew when he felt her soften, and tucked her under his chin again, wrapped her up in his arms and their warm blankets. Her warm breath ghosted against his throat, her form both strong and delightfully, alluringly soft as she lay against him. She settled a bit, twined an arm over his waist, inserted her leg between his own.

Kenshin closed his eyes and returned to sleep with a smile.


	34. Classy

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts: Prompt: High Class

Have you ever seen a picture of a Meiji era prostitute? Constrast that against a period Western evening gown and you get this bit of silliness. Also, please note that day dresses and evening dresses during that period of English history were very, very different. :)

Setting is ambiguous, but prior to marriage.

Also, sorry to be so slow: depression saps the marrow from my bones. Very annoying.

* * *

Kenshin smiled, eyes roving over the various dishes on stove, simmering, bubbling and frying satisfactorily. He loved the kitchen, the quiet dance of meal preparation, the grace and control inherent in making a good meal. He loved the pleasure it brought his makeshift family. He loved being able to create something that directly nourished his loved ones, lavishing care upon them in a way as direct as touch. He hummed quietly to himself, setting a tray with the items needed for tea.

Tae was over, and she and Kaoru had been sequestered in a bedroom for the last two hours; while he had been explicitly banned, surely they would appreciate tea. Dinner was nearly complete, it would keep for the minute it would take to the deliver refreshments to the ladies.

"Kaoru-dono, Tae-dono, this one has brought tea." He waited quietly in hall, listening to the shuffling in Kaoru's room.

" _No! Tae, this is ridiculous, I won't!"_

" _Kaoru, you look fine, it's all the rage-_ "

" _I look like a- No! Make him go away and help me out of this-_ "

"Oro!" Luckily, his voice had been quiet. He shifted the tray, and blinked. What on earth were they doing? Tae cracked open shoji and gave him a sunny smile, blocking the entrance with her body. She was dressed in one the new body-hugging, high collared Western dresses that the women in the market had recently began wearing.

"Kenshin-san! How nice of you to bring tea." There was a loud crash behind her, and Kenshin was trying very hard to resist the urge to look. "If you would perhaps leave the tray, I will fetch it in just a moment."

"Oro? Um, yes." Kenshin placed the tea tray on the floor. "What- what are you ladies doing today, Tae-dono?" Her smile tightened in annoyance.

"I brought some of the new Western fashions for Kaoru to try. Her mother's kimono look lovely, of course, but rather old-fashioned, and I thought that she might enjoy something more modern."

" _Tae!"_

"She's- she's a bit self-conscious."

"This one is certain you both look lovely, that I am." Kenshin tried a soothing smile in the face of Tae's annoyance and the continued sounds of muted thumps from within the bedroom. Tae was always quite presentable,and although the Western fashions were snug across a woman's body, they weren't really scandalous, just a bit odd. Kenshin had personally seen Kaoru in everything from training clothes to her sleeping clothes and she had never before been body-conscious. He was practically itching with curiosity.

" _Tae! Help me out of this- this THING."_ Tae's smile took a sharp edge.

"That THING is very high-class, Kaoru!" She shoved the shoji open so hard that it impacted the wall and bounced. Kaoru froze, one hand braced against the wall, one hand behind her, presumably attempting to unfasten her … gown.

Kenshin was suddenly very glad that he was no longer holding a tray full of breakables.

The... gown...was very full in the skirt and highly ornamented, like all of the other Western dresses that he'd seen, but her... torso... That was where everything went- weird. Her neck and shoulders and the tops of her breasts were bare, pale flesh bound in blue fabric and lace, with a bizarre bow in the center like some sort of salacious present. Her dark hair had all been piled on top of her head, with several strands floating free against her slim neck, brushing against those white shoulders. The sheer amount of _skin_ that was showing was enough to cause his mind to shut down temporarily.

Tae grabbed Kaoru's arm- her _completely bare arm_ \- and thrust her forward, towards Kenshin. "It's a evening gown! Western ladies wear them-" and Tae was still talking happily, but Kenshin just wanted to back away before he began to hyperventilate. He had never in his life seen such a surreal juxaposition of yards and yards of fabric against such a vast amount of exposed flesh. Kaoru's lovely neck and the occasional flash of collarbone and breast binding had been enough to make his nights uncomfortable; this- this- THING she was wearing was simply too much to process.

Kenshin realized that Tae was awaiting some type of response from him, and he blinked his eyes away from Kaoru's _completely bare shoulders_ to try to answer. His mouth flapped while he backed away toward the opposing wall. He tried to form words past his paralyzed throat. He accidentally put his foot into the tea tray, and with internal thanks to a merciful universe, he gratefully fell with well-practiced rurouni clumsiness, using the ensuing chaos to escape.

"Dinner!" He gasped and scuttled away to the relative safety of the kitchen. He sagged against wall, began to quietly thump his head against the wood.

Perhaps self-induced head trauma would result in memory loss.


	35. Waiting

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts: So Far From Home

'Cause I can't see Kaoru sitting around waiting to be rescued, but you have to admit that an island prision is a pretty good cage.

Setting is obvious.

* * *

It was raining. Kaoru absently traced one of drops down the glass pane, watching the harbor. The house was set so high and the glass was so clear that sometimes she would daydream about flying, sprouting wings and flinging herself out of the window and just flying away. She had no wings, though, and so she stood in that strangely fluffy sleeping robe and kept vigil.

Footsteps sounded outside of her room ( _two men, large, heavy footed)_ and her eyes flicked to the oh-so-convenient clock on the side table ( _3:38pm, they were late, still three hours between in-house patrols. Slobs.)_ She returned her gaze to the water, waiting.

The footsteps came again ( _two men, large, heavy footed. 6:35pm. At least they were on time.)_ In one more hour, night would fall and she wouldn't be able to see the harbor clearly any longer. It had stopped raining. She could go begin dinner now, or wait until full dark. It wasn't much of a choice; she waited.

It was 7:16 when Kaoru decided that it was dark enough that no one would sail through the dangerously jagged cliffs into the harbor. Her feet and legs protested as she moved away from the glass so she took a moment to stretch. There was no reason to rush; there was no one waiting for her in this house.

She exited her room ( _they didn't bother to lock her in; arrogant)_ and made her way to the kitchen, avoiding the goons with their habitual paths and hangouts as deftly as she had done since day three. The kitchen was beautiful, modern in a way that she had never seen before. She crossed to the stove and lit it ( _Kenshin would love a stove like this one)_ and opened the pantry, perusing the stores. There was at least another week of food on display here, even with the way that she had been "cooking." She frowned. ( _They had better not have a storage shed full of rice somewhere.)_ She scooped an enormous portion of grain into the large cooking pot ( _the one with the copper bottom; how much did something like that cost? Kenshin would enjoy a pot like this one)_ and selected vegetables and salted meat.

She knew that they other men ate something different, she'd seen the remnants of their meals, the coarse rice and cheap, wilted vegetables. Enishi seemed indifferent to whether he ate or not, but what he did eat was the superior quality foods in this pantry. With grim pleasure, she began to prepare enough of the quality ingredients to feed six Sanosukes on a hungry day.

She undercooked the rice and overcooked the squash. She sighed to herself and scooped out a reasonable portion, eating by herself in the quiet room. She scooped out a bit more rice and made herself some onigiri for tomorrow's breakfast and lunch, lop-sided and undersalted, and tried not to long for bunny shapes. She allowed the rice to continue cooking as she worked, until it was gummy.

She prepared a tray with the now-cold undercooked vegetables and the cheerfully gummy rice and made herself small. She took a deep breath, and gathered her ki around her, pulling it inside into a small ember, tucking it deep within herself like throwing a blanket over a lantern. She hunched her shoulders, bowed her head. She smiled briefly as she placed cool, oversteeped tea on the tray, and turned left out of the kitchen.

It was a risk, offering meals to Enishi. He was obviously half-mad and although she tried not to draw too much of his attention, he often scraped against her strained control, causing her to mouth off before she could catch her willful tongue. She couldn't let him die, though. Not only did she refuse to desire her enemy's death, but if he was gone then that man with the rat-eyes would be left in charge. She didn't know the man's name but his disgusting little eyes wandered over her body in disturbing ways the few times they had met. Their last meeting had prompted her to take an hour long bath.

Enishi was brooding at the fire. She had tried and tried to draw him out, make herself human in his eyes, convince him that this whole thing was futile. She didn't have the energy for that tonight, although she thought that she might try again tomorrow. Instead, she merely sat the tray of dubious offerings on the table near the fireplace and left as quietly as she'd came.

Back in the kitchen, she took malicious pleasure in disposing of the huge quantity of left over food, sneaking as many intact, uncooked items into the midden heap as she dared. She scrubbed the pots and dishes, drying them carefully and putting them away until tomorrow. The sad not-bunny onigiri went with her.

She returned to her room, propped a chair under the door knob, and performed a few kata at half speed in the small space, trying to empty her mind.

There had not been a ship in almost a week. This was an _island_ , they did not grow food here, much less make matches and cloth and salt. There _would be a ship_ , and if she had to burn every grain of rice in this house to force a re-supply _there would be a ship._

Footsteps sounded in the hall and her eyes flicked to the clock ( _two men, large, heavy footed. 9:32 pm)._ She did not have wings and couldn't fly away, but there would be a ship. Soon.

And Kaoru would be waiting.


	36. Touched

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts: Good Medicine

My prompt ended up not really resembling my story much. The prompt "good medicine" made me think about touch, human contact, and how badly we, as social creatures, really need that physical affection. Then you take this need and filter it through social/culture constraints like the physically reserved Japanese and I thought, Kenshin wouldn't have hardly been touched in over a decade, and maybe (probably?) only minimally for eight years or so before that, too. And I see Kaoru as being atypical in this regard, not lewd or ridiculous, but just much more physically demonstrative than Kenshin is likely used to.

How badly he must want that.

It's a weird one, just a warning.

* * *

The first several weeks of cohabitation with the shihondai had been a shock to the system. Kaoru was a very physical person. She expressed herself through touch, and he had the lumps to prove it. The reality that this small woman would dare to strike him was mind-boggling; he had been a _hitokiri,_ for heaven's sake.

It was more than that, though, so much more. Kaoru touched him constantly, small touches that bespoke intimacy. The contact was nothing scandalous, everything was proper, but she thought nothing about brushing his fingertips as she passed him his cup, or touching his sleeve to gain his attention if he'd been daydreaming. She stood more closely than was conventional, and although it was still a polite distance, he could smell her perfume as they worked side by side in the yard. The honesty of her was such that he knew that the touching was exactly what it seemed to be: Kaoru liked him and she was expressing herself as she was wont to do. Still, the constant little touches made him vaguely uncomfortable. At first.

It took very little time before the discomfort settled into acceptance. Soon, he became accustomed to her idiosyncrasy as people did when they lived together. Her little touches, the warmth of her calloused fingers and the scent of her jasmine soap, were as much a part of the backdrop of his days as pleasant breeze and warm sunshine. She offered the same physical affection to Yahiko, and Sano. That she didn't blush for them, didn't nibble her sweet lip, was something that Kenshin spent weeks trying not to think about.

And then he left. He walked to Kyoto, located a new sword and found his master, and no one touched him anymore. His only physical contact for an entire eight weeks was violence. He was fully aware that he was in love with Kaoru, and had been prepared to miss her terribly, to grieve for what could not be. He had _not_ been prepared for the restless desire to be touched. The lack of Kaoru's hand, her perfume, her tug at his sleeve made him ache, literally. His fingertips ached, his arms ached, his chest ached with how badly he missed that pervasive contact. He talked and ate and searched and all the while, he felt like half a person, the Walking Incomplete.

Then, outside of all reason, she was simply _there,_ standing in the doorway of Shishou's home looking unsure and timid and un-Kaoru-like, and Kenshin felt an explosion in his chest. He felt shock, and fear for her safety, and anger that she had invalidated his choice, and through all of that emotion the dreadful ache in him intensified tenfold and seemed to pulse with his heartbeat. She was right there, so close, and he wanted to wrap his aching arms around her, pull her against his chest, and bury his nose in her jasmine scented hair. Half of him was angry, yes, but the rest of him cried out in relief. She was there and she would touch him again, and he need not miss it anymore. He curled his needy fingers into fists, and resisted temptation.


	37. Fifty words, 1

These are all precisely 50 words, no more, no less and just a little bit of fun writing exercise. I'll post them up when I have 4 or 5 laying around.

 _Homecoming_

Kenshin froze and savored the sensation of skin on skin, Kaoru's body under him, around him. She smiled, framed his face with her warm hands, and somehow she understood.

"Okaeri nasai, Kenshin."

He turned his face into her neck, whispered into her skin. "Tadaima," and he began to move.

 _Gifts_

"You need to stop leaving dead bodies in my kitchen." Amber eyes looked back at him, unconcerned.

"It is unsanitary, so it is." His opponent didn't respond.

Somehow the little black cat managed to look innocent like always, even while sitting next to yet another dead bird.

 _Choices_

It was cold. It was spring, yes, but yesterday he had woken up with frost stiffening his thin blanket and the idea of sleeping outdoors again was decidedly unappealing.

Kenshin counted his money: just enough for a cheap inn.

He turned left, towards Tokyo. Maybe something good would happen there.

 _Solutions_

Whenever Kensin's eyes became sad and turned inward, Kaoru acted. She'd pull him down, her arms and legs wrapped tight around him, so that he could drown in her and the magic of _them_ instead of memories.

"It's alright," she'd whisper in his ear. "I've got you. I'm here."


	38. Game

Prompt: Game Console (s)

It is my understanding that swordsmen of the Edo era were expected to be, by and large, well educated. In a cliched fan-girl move, I have completely over-analyzed Manga!Kenshin's shockingly bad handwriting (calligraphy was important at that time!) and extrapolated a personal head-canon in which Hiko neglected large swaths of Kenshin's education. Kaoru being who she is, I think that she would desire to right a perceived wrong. And Kenshin is an adult, and her love interest,so that could get sticky...

Although it's never shown, I have always assumed that in addition to swordsmanship, Kaoru is seeing to Yahiko's more traditional education, as well.

Set post-Kyoto, pre-Jinchuu.

* * *

Hiko had a lot to answer for, and the next time they met Kaoru was going to give him a sizable dressing-down. She'd always desired to teach whoever had raised Kenshin the finer points of their short-comings with the business end of a boken, but having met Hiko, that wouldn't work out so well for the petite woman. So, a humiliating tongue-lashing would have to do. Although, maybe she could just drop an inkstone into his sake jug... She smiled dreamily into space as she sat on the porch, teacup warm in her hands, her expression unconsciously vicious.

"Oro!" She looked over to Kenshin, who had approached her from behind. He now stood, eyes wide and hands raised defensively, sweating visibly. She made an effort to force her mind away from scenarios of vengeance.

"Yes, Kenshin?" His eyes darted to the house. He seemed to be mapping exits. She attempted to smooth her features further. Based on the how nervous the ruruoni appeared, she was having limited success.

"Um...dinner is ready, so it is."

She smiled. "Thank you!" She rose and proceeded him inside. "It smells great!" She, Kenshin, and Yahiko all settled, the blessing was said, and dinner really was delicious. Kenshin seemed to relax after a few minutes, although he did keep giving her sidelong glances. After the meal was cleared away and the dishes washed, she dismissed Yahiko to his writing homework, and turned her smiling face to Kenshin.

"Would you like to play tonight?" He blushed, his naturally pale skin concealing so very little, and scratched the back of his head.

"If Kaoru-dono does not mind..."

"Of course not! Would you like to play in here or on the porch?" He chose the porch, as he usually did, his preference for the outdoors undiminished in light of the cool autumn air. She carefully removed her grandfather's Go board from its case and settled opposite her redhead. She waited while he placed the pieces for his handicap, then began to stake her chosen territory. They had only begun playing shortly before he left for Kyoto and he was surprisingly good for someone so inexperienced. His natural shrewdness and ability to read an opponent offset his _complete lack of instruction-!_ He flinched and she forcibly settled, directing her mind away from his neglect and on to the game.

She won, as she always had, but he was getting better; the game had lasted two and a half hours.

"That was really good, Kenshin. You really almost had that top area." She packed away the pieces and the ornate board. "I'm off to bed, I think. You?" He smiled gently, and it was really unfair how attractive he looked, sitting propped against the porch pillar, his face half shadowed and his beautiful eyes dark.

"This one will stay up a while longer, so I will." She hummed an acknowledgment.

"Would you like for me to bring you your book? Some tea?" His smile widened into something more genuine.

"You do not have to, Kaoru-dono." She smiled back.

"I want to." And she rose and set the water to boil, fetching Kenshin's book of poetry. She heard Yahiko snoring as she passed his room, and peeked inside to insure that he had finished his homework and properly packed away his writing implements. She'd been initially dismayed by Kenshin's complete ignorance of poetry, and basically anything other than the last five hundred years of Japanese politics. He seemed to really enjoy reading, though, and had been delighted when Kaoru had shown him her small library of heirloom volumes. He read quite slowly, but what he read, he remembered. Basho's imagery was magnificent, and Kaoru had been pleased to be able to offer this little book.

She'd had to be so _careful_ with all of this, not wanting Kenshin to feel that she found him lacking because of his poor education. No, it was _Hiko_ who was at fault. To adopt a child and teach him the sword, and only the sword, and then be critical when that child was vulnerable to exploitation-! Kaoru took a deep breath in the quiet kitchen. _The next time we're in Kyoto_ , she promised herself, _that man is going to regret being a cretin._


	39. Now

Prompt: Soap Bubbles

Kenshin broods too much. Sometimes, a guy just needs to get laid. Repeatedly.

Seriously, though, he's the kinda guy that has trouble shutting up and accepting that good things can happen to him without the word ending.

Setting: newlyweds.

* * *

It was night, quiet and dark and calm. Laying in bed, curled around his sleeping wife, Kenshin was still awake. He'd left the lamp lit, Kaoru had been too tired out to care, so he took advantage of the light to watch over his wife while she slept.

The lamplight gilded her skin, turned all of the tiny hairs golden, and she seemed almost to glow. Her dark hair was loose, a tousled halo. Her lashes smudged smooth cheeks, and her hand was tucked neatly under her face. She was still naked, and he carefully tucked the far edge of the blanket around her back, smoothing the quilt over skin.

How fragile she was, how fragile all of this was, and he wondered if she had any idea. Her parents had been taken young, so perhaps she did know, but he was uncertain. He couldn't, could never, find the words to give voice to his certainty that what they had here, in this room, was as fragile as soap bubbles. An accident, an illness, an act of violence and everything would be gone.

He stroked a gentle hand over her arm, the skin soft and silky over firm muscle. He would take it, this selfish and ephemeral joy, and soak it into his pores. He'd float along in these muted moments of tranquility and intimacy. And if fate saw fit to tear it all down, he will have _had_ this, these moments, these memories, this history.

He pressed his face into her hair, took the scent of it deep into his lungs and listened to the sound of her breathing, warm and soft against his own body. He would watch over her and this place, protect her and their home and the life that they had together. She had willingly given herself into his keeping, trusting him with her body and her heart and all of her possessions, and if necessary he would give up _everything_ to reward that faith. Even now, the sakabatou was within arms reach.

The sword that protects must not fail.

He must not fail. Not again.

She shifted against him, a sleepy murmur and a glide of calloused fingertips across his waist, and he pushed his dark thoughts aside in favor of her sleepy mouth and welcoming hands. For now at least, Kaoru was here, vibrant and sweet, and her collarbone needed kissing.


	40. Game 2

Several people asked me to write a "Kaoru gets revenge" follow up to "Game." Soooo, writing Hiko. Yeah. Let's see how this goes. PLEASE READ "GAME" FIRST.

And, yes, Hiko is gleefully needling her (as I think he does with most people that he likes) during this entire thing, but it's written from Kaoru's POV so that might not come across. (I _might_ write a f/u from Hiko's POV.)

Setting: after marriage, before Kenji.

* * *

Her opening volley was nonverbal. It was in amongst a couple of other items that she and Kenshin had brought from Tokyo. She had deliberately left them unwrapped (and honestly, wrapping them would have made bringing them up the mountain beyond awkward). She settled herself firmly on her cushion, gaze unflinching and hands steady as she politely presented them.

Hiko's eyes narrowed suspiciously at the sake flask in her hands. It was lovely, a beautiful red with a flower motif worked into the steel neck.

"Dare I hope your taste in sake has improved, baka deshi?" Kaoru's smile was less a smile and more of a baring of teeth.

" _I_ chose it for you, Hiko-san," she ground out. Hiko took it from her- one handed. _Clod._ She kept smiling. He eyed the other items with the same dismissive approval. Kaoru had saved the book for last. It was a handsome volume, bound in hunter green, a brand new translation of The Social Contract, by Jean-Jacques Rousseau.

Hiko eyed it and then merely raised an eyebrow. Kaoru completely missed the amused glint in his dark eyes, but Kenshin noted it with equal parts dread and acceptance; it was merely Hiko's way. _Be careful, Shishou,_ he thought with a mental headshake, _you don't know who you're teasing._

"I was fortunate to find a copy, Hiko-san. I was able to attend a public debate about this book, and it-" Hiko waved a hand, cutting her off mid-speech.

"Philosophy," and he said it as though he'd stepped in something foul, "is for the weak minded." If words were tangible things, Kaoru might have choked. As it was, a nasty tick took hold of her left eye.

.

.

.

Kaoru lobbed her second shot over lunch, seated with Kenshin to her right and Hiko to her left, at the small but pretty dining table.

"Hiko-san, have you heard that they've published another volume of poetry by the Emperor? It's apparently all _tanka_ ; they say that he's written thousands of them now."

Hiko and Kenshin both paused in eating their meal. Kenshin blinked at her as though she'd lost her mind, but Hiko merely gave her an inscrutable look over his rice bowl. A rice bowl conveniently positioned to hide the man's almost-smiling mouth.

"Reading poetry is a waste of time." Kaoru felt the twitch returning.

"There is a noble tradition of Japanese poetry that-"

"Waste of time," Hiko interrupted. Kaoru squeezed her fist until she heard her chopsticks squeak.

"Baka deshi. She appears on the verge of breaking my things. Restrain your woman." Kaoru's face went white, and then red, and then Kenshin really did have to restrain her – bodily.

.

.

.

After lunch was eaten, Kenshin and Hiko engaged in what must have passed for small talk between the two men. Really it was Hiko drinking, and occasionally shouting a comment at Kenshin while he chopped wood. Kaoru made tea and fumed. _Insufferable great cretin._ She eyed the sake flask. She fingered the ink stick in her pocket. It was a cheap pine soot one, the kind that dissolved too easily and made inferior, runny ink. She'd bought it on a whim, but... _No,_ she decided, and picked up the tea tray and the warmed sake and returned outside to the men.

She seated herself next to Hiko, and tried not to let to let the sight of Kenshin chopping wood topless distract her from the task at hand. She zoned out for a minute, and then forcibly turned away.

"Hiko-san." Her voice was firm. Nothing had gone correctly today; maybe she should just be direct? She kept her voice quiet in the hope that it wouldn't carry too far. "Why did you not teach Kenshin proper calligraphy?"

He looked at her from the corner of his eye. He lowered his cup. "I tried. The boy was inept." Kaoru's mouth dropped open. She stared. Hiko smirked. And then he rose and walked away, presumably to relieve himself. Kaoru snapped her mouth shut and she jammed the ink stick in the pretty little gourd with relish. _Obnoxious, insulting-!_ Even her thoughts sputtered.

By the time he returned, she had assembled some illusion of serenity. She stared into the distance, her grip on her teacup tight, her shoulders tense, and tried not to think about what she'd just done. Should she tell him? Prevent him from drinking the stuff? He was huge. He was a master of Hiten Mitsurgi Ryu. He was, essentially, her father-in-law.

He was one of the most deliberately unpleasant people she had ever met. Thinking over the day, Kaoru felt the eye twitch return. _Nevermind._

Hiko picked up the pretty red jug and took a deep pull. Kaoru watched, frozen.

There was a half-beat of silence, and then Hiko violently spat out the now dark blue sake, spraying the front of his kimono with the dark, foul liquid. Then he was still, as still as a large hunting bird, and Kaoru felt her breathing accelerate. Kenshin sprinted to the dozen paces to their seat.

"What is it? This one... felt..." he trailed off. As Kenshin took in the tableau with wide eyes, Kaoru cringed a little, gaze darting between her husband and his mountain of a mentor. Even she could feel Hiko gathering himself for an explosion. And then Kenshin began to laugh.

He laughed like she had never seen before, sagging against the wall of the house, hugging his arms around his belly. He was gasping and wheezing like he could barely breathe, and tears leaked from the corners of his eyes. Finally, still hunched over and a hand braced against the knee, he gathered himself enough to speak.

"Shishou, you have something," he wheezed, gesturing at his own chest, "Just there." He wiped the tears from his cheeks.

Hiko stood in a billowing of great white cape and Kaoru turned back to him, having nearly forgotten him as she watched her normally quiet, reserved spouse. Hiko's mouth twitched into what Kaoru could swear was a smile.

"Woman." She turned instantly crimson as Hiko stripped out of his kimono. "I expect that cleaned and returned." And he dropped the garment on Kaoru's face and stalked inside the house. Kaoru tore the kimono off of her head, and looked over at Kenshin, who was still chuckling to himself.

 _Competely worth it,_ she thought.

* * *

Also, 161 reviews?! You guys are completely amazing, THANK YOU, so much. I seriously treasure each and every review. :D


	41. Desire

Prompt: Child of Mine

Kenshin hides himself from the world, but I think that he hides himself from himself a bit, too.

Setting: Post Kyoto, Pre Jinchuu

* * *

"Aw, man, why do we gotta pick up all this stuff?" Kenshin flicked a glance over to Sano as the younger man lounged while standing upright, his perpetually bandaged fists thrust into his pockets.

"Maa, Sano, the dojo is running low on some items, so it is. It is not too much trouble to do the grocery shopping." Kenshin selected a rather nice looking squash and paid the patient vendor. His voice took on a wry edge. "And it is not as though you are carrying any of it, that it isn't." And he wasn't, the tall man was completely unencumbered and the far smaller Kenshin was nearly buried in produce and an unnecessarily heavy container of soy sauce.

Sano shifted his fish bone to accommodate a grin. "What, and ruin my reputation?" Kenshin smiled a bit and shook his head.

"We should return to Kaoru-dono, that we should; her visit must be nearly over by now." Kaoru had taken the opportunity to visit her childhood friend while the men picked up a "few items," and it was on the way back to the dojo. Kenshin felt himself smiling a little for no real reason, pleased to be going _home_. It felt so wonderfully strange, in his thoughts and his speech, to refer to any place as "home." Despite himself, Kenshin could not quite let go, could not fully embrace the reality of it all. There were still such shadows,darkness on the edges of his thoughts and his life, and a feeling of pregnant silence, as though the universe had drawn in a breath and had yet to exhale.

He did not _want_ to feel that reserve. He wanted to allow himself to relax. He wanted this life, the life that tugged at the edges of his consciousness and whispered seductive words of comfort and acceptance. He wanted endless mundane trips to the market and warm autumn days working and living with his foundling family. Deep in his heart, Kenshin knew that he was a needy man.

The two men threaded through the market towards the Wantanabe home. They had seemed like nice people earlier when they had exchanged greetings; Kaoru's friend Aiko-dono had been married for just a couple of years now and her husband worked in the tax office. That Wantanabe Aiko was merely one year older than Kaoru-dono was something that caused an aimless, restless feeling in Kenshin's chest.

The ladies had chosen to take tea on the porch of the modest but neat little house, and Kenshin could see Kaoru-dono sitting outside, her back to the approaching men and her legs curled to her left. She was looking at something in her lap, and Aiko-dono was smiling broadly, chatting and gesturing. The women made a nice picture, sitting there in the sunshine, healthy and happy. Kenshin noted Sano's appreciative smile; Sano had no interest in Kaoru-dono, and certainly none in her married friend, but a man would have to be made of stone not to find such a scene pleasing.

"Your family is here, Kaoru-chan. I'll take him." The woman smiled and opened her arms, and Kenshin was at last close enough to see what had captured Kaoru-dono's attention.

There was a baby on her lap. It was a very small baby, probably only a few weeks old, and only its fuzzy black head and waving hands were visible above the soft, clean blanket. She had it not on her lap, he could see that now, but cradled in her arms, cuddled close to her body. Her posture was soft and protective, her face dreamy and adoring. At that moment, she was the picture of everything maternal.

He had never before even _imagined_ Kaoru-dono with a baby.

For a tiny instant, a flicker of time, he was seized the the most intense craving, a coveting so sharp that it stole his breath away. He was left reeling while his world tilted crazily on its side.

Sano, bless him, stepped forward and managed pleasantries, collecting Kaoru-dono and allowing Kenshin a moment to remember how to breathe. Kenshin recalled how to walk and turned towards the dojo on wooden feet, his head down and bangs forward.

 _Kami-sama,_ deep in that needy heart, he **wanted.**


	42. Evolution

So, the traditional topknot hairstyle was illegal in Meiji, as I understand, which would explain why Kenshin changed from his high ponytail to his low one. It does NOT explain whey he kept his hair long, semi-frozen in time, in the era that he himself tore down. And so I began thinking about his haircut and the implications of growth therein, and what that long hair of his meant to him. And what cutting it off meant to him.

Sano's hair was always short, and the trim below reflects only that he was unkempt and nothing deep.

Setting: After the Manga epilogue, married 5 years, and Sano's back from wherever for a while at least.

* * *

Sano flopped to the planking of the porch, stretching his long limbs and settling himself into the lingering evening sunshine like a contented dog. Kenshin looked over at the young man. He looked a little less a boy, now, and even a bit respectable, now that Kaoru had gotten her hands, and scissors, on what had been his crazily overgrown, shaggy and tufty hair.

"Aw, Jou-chan's even scarier now than when I left." Sano ran a hand over his newly trimmed hair. Kenshin's lips quirked into a quiet smile, and he moved the sake from his left side to his right, in between himself and his long absent friend. Sano's woebegone expression lightened into eagerness, and they poured. "She got you too, huh?" Sano gestured to Kenshin's lack of ponytail. "Never thought she'd touch _your_ hair."

Kenshin felt his mouth twitch at the reminder of his wife's love of his red hair. "It was this one's decision to cut it, so it was."

Sano quirked a brow. "So she didn't ambush you?"

"No." Kenshin _was not laughing_. Sano's wry expression stated that he had heard the not laughter quite clearly. Sitting on the porch and watching the sun set, Kenshin felt relaxed and content; he could hear a grumbling Yahiko still cleaning the dinner dishes and from the bath house the noises of his wife bathing their four year old son. And now, here was Sano, older and wiser and calmer than he'd ever seen, back in Tokyo for a least a little while.

"So why'd you do it?" Sano's voice pulled him from his relaxed contemplation. He looked over to find himself eye-to-rim with Sano's empty cup. He poured.

"Do what?" Kenshin smiled guilelessly, his eyes closed and face innocent. Sano's eyes and expression both called bullshit. He dropped the act with a small sigh.

"It seemed to be time, so it did." Sano sipped, watched the colors paint the sky, and waited. Kenshin drank the sweet sake with a small, real smile, and placed his empty cup on the planking. "This one is a husband now, and a father." He tried to explain. "This one … no longer carries a daisho, nor even the sakabatou, both because this one no longer can use Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu, and also because this one does not regret that truth." He picked up his newly filled cup. "Kamiya Kasshin Ryu..." His voice was quiet now. "Kamiya Kasshin Ryu requires only a boken, so it does, and this one- this one is content that such strength is all that this one requires to protect these people now."

"So why give the sakabatou to Yahiko?" There was no accusation in Sano's voice.

"Because he wanted it, and so he has lessons to learn still, that he does." Sano hummed a quiet acknowledgment. Kenshin raised a hand to his short hair, still a surprise sometimes even after all these weeks.

"A sword is a tool to kill, that it is. And this one is no longer a swordsman."

.

.

.

* * *

In my own personal head-canon he grows it long again, not for any reason other than that Kaoru adores his hair and he loves his wife. After the initial cut, I think it would just be hair, no longer a symbol of his past or his identity.


	43. Maturity

Prompt: Maturity

This is a cleaned up rewrite of a snippet from my horrible p0rn story on Archive of Our Own, because it's cute and I enjoy annoying Yahiko.

Setting: newlyweds

* * *

Kaoru was not subtle. Sitting around the breakfast table, it was plain to anyone with eyes that she had been thoroughly loved, and recently, too. Her face was brightly flushed, her eyes sparkling, her mouth still swollen, her smile bright and out of place for the mild family breakfast they were having with Yahiko.

Yahiko had eaten with the usual ravenous teenager appetite for a few brief minutes, shoveling food down so fast that it was amazing he didn't choke. Once he'd taken the edge off of his hunger though, he seemed to notice Kaoru's appearance, and he slowly pushed his bowl away. His dark eyes assessed the obliviously happy woman, then swung back to Kenshin with something like accusation.

Kenshin offered his best innocent, ruruoni smile. It was _not_ effective.

"Aw, man! You guys are gross. I'm gonna go warm up." He put down his chopsticks and stomped out of the house to the dojo.

Kaoru's eyebrows pinched together. "That little brat!" She looked to Kenshin. "We're married!" She pushed away her own breakfast. "I'm gonna smear the floor with that kid." Kenshin ducked his head and hid behind his bangs, trying not to laugh at their sibling antics. He finished his own breakfast and began to clear the table.

.

.

.

Kenshin was preparing lunch when Yahiko came in to the kitchen, fresh from a bath after practice, his dark hair still damp and tufting up in odd directions. He walked up to the table spread with ingredients and glared at Kenshin from the corner of his eye.

Kenshin gave the boy a gentle smile and stayed quiet, mixing a sauce and allowing the silence to settle Yahiko's obvious discomfort.

"What's up with you guys?" Yahiko blurted, face slightly colored under his tan skin. Kenshin just raised an eyebrow.

"Aw, man, she's … she's _Kaoru_... it's creepy when you two are all … whatever." Yahiko slouched in the singularly offended manner of teenagers and stole some pickle from the bowl.

"Yahiko, this one is married," he said it gently, and felt a little bad that he didn't feel at all guilty. The boy was old enough, and was street wise beyond even those years.

"Yeah, I know. And it's not like I don't get it; I mean, you should hear some of the stuff that goes on down by the row house." Kenshin blinked, and immediately wondered if he should convince Yahiko to move back home. "It's just, knowing that you're doing that stuff to Kaoru, it's..." he shrugged and looked away.

"Yahiko, this one is unsure what you have heard, but Kaoru-dono is this one's __wife__. It is different, that it is."

"Yeah, I know, honor and whatever."

Kenshin shook his head. "No, not honor, but affection and intimacy." He reached for another radish. "It is affection that turns action into connection. Intimacy that turns sex into communion. Do you understand the difference?"

Yahiko's face scrunched, and Kenshin sighed.

"If you had a gift for Tsubame-chan, and you gave it to her, and she was happy, would that make you happy as well?"

"Well, sure. I mean, that's the whole point, right?

"Yes, Yahiko," Kenshin dropped the diced vegetables into the soup. "That is the entire point."

"...Oh. Okay, I get it, I think." Yahiko looked at his hands, and took a deep breath. "Ya know, Tae asked me to pick up a shift this afternoon... I think I will. Be gone for the rest of the day, though."

Kenshin smiled.


	44. Introduction

My own head-canon is in my story A Beautiful Risk and portrays Kenji's entrance to the world as ...well, _risky._ Kenshin would have trouble with the concept of a second pregnancy after such an event, and this little story came into being.

* * *

Kenshin couldn't sleep. He stretched, carefully, and groaned internally, counting the chimes of the little clock from the main hall. _Three a.m._ Insomnia happened sometimes, when he was worried, and he had been worried everyday for the last four months. He scrubbed a calloused over over tired eyes.

The lack of sleep was finally beginning to take its toll. Dust was piling up in the corners, the _udo_ seedlings needed to be transplanted, and his joints were as stiff as a grandfathers'. Kaoru would notice soon, if she hadn't already, and then he could add guilt for her worry to his inner turmoil.

His wife hummed and resettled, seeking his warmth even while she slept and he smiled over at her as she unconsciously snuggled into his side, curling into the hollow of his shoulder as he lifted his arm to pull her close. He breathed deep the floral scent of her hair, and tried to relax. She was five months pregnant now, and her firmly distended belly pressed against his hip.

He stroked her arm and breathed in her scent and stared at the ceiling, and worried. He'd been so ignorant with the first pregnancy, aware of the risks but comfortable in the idea that Kaoru was strong and young and healthy, convinced that she would be fine. The idea that something so commonplace as bearing a child, something so _joyous_ , could steal away his wife … it had only really peripherally registered. When he had been confronted with the reality of a dangerous pregnancy and birth, it had been horrifying. It had been haunting.

This second pregnancy was unplanned and unexpected. They had taken the prudent precautions; Kaoru had taken her herbal tea, once Kenji had started to wean, and Kenshin had always, _always_ , withdrawn during their loving. It hadn't helped, obviously, for here was another baby on the way. Kaoru was only twenty-four years old. He pressed his cheek to Kaoru's head and tried to take comfort in her. He counted his breaths and wished that he could sleep.

Kaoru was happy to be pregnant again and he knew it. She had been gentle when she'd told him, and concerned for him, but there was no disguising her joy. She was back to sewing little clothes and humming while she did so. She stroked reverent hands over her swelling belly at all hours. She was convinced that this baby would be another boy, and had begun suggesting names. She did not share his roiling dread that she might _die_ this time. Kenshin hated that he was so afraid. He wanted to share her happiness, join her in her joyful expectation. Instead, he was frozen, unable to help, unable to protect her, unable to _sleep_ , dammit. He sighed.

A tiny flick, an itty bitty tick, against Kenshin's hip caused him dart his eyes downward. He froze, and waited. _There_ , it had come again, the tiniest of little... kicks. Kenshin ghosted a hand down Kaoru's side, reaching out and pressing at the juncture of his hip and her belly. He waited, anxiety and reluctant excitement twisting in his gut.

 _Again._ It came again, that little flutter, and again and again, the life inside of Kaoru making itself known to its father. Kenshin shifted carefully from under his wife and scooted down until he was eye level with her belly. He pressed both hands against that mound, and played hide and seek with that tiny life, chasing those little kicks across his wife's belly.

"I'm sorry, little one, that I took so long to say hello," he whispered finally, tears stinging at his eyes. "I'm sorry." He pressed a soft kiss to Kaoru's belly, stroked his fingers against that fluttering little life, and _at last_ the fear dissipated like a shadow in sunlight, and he felt himself to fall in love yet again.


	45. Honesty

_Himura_ means "red village" I guess, and was almost certainly an affectation, as the peasant classes didn't have last names before Meiji. Some people think Hiko gave it to him, but I personally imagine it was Katsura, pretending Kenshin was samurai to avoid offending others by keeping Kenshin in a place of honor as his elite. I do NOT see Kenshin as attached to the name, and in fact, have him discard it in favor of _Kamiya_ in every story I write, which isn't canon but I very blithely don't care.

Note: My sources state that hemp was a historically important crop and they apparently did everything with it but smoke it.

Setting: Very early, in the first couple of days that Kenshin stayed in the dojo.

* * *

Kenshin sat against the pillar on the porch, knees bent and feet flat, the sakabatou resting against this shoulder. The sunset here in this place was lovely tonight, the sky painting in pinks and purples and even the shadows cast by the fence seemed friendly. The entire place seemed... gentle. Kenshin felt himself relax a little more, an easing of tension in his shoulders and back against the post.

Soft, rapid footsteps were coming his way, the gait restricted, and sound of kimono swishing against ankles, and there was the pretty little shihondai, emerging from the house with tea tray in hand. She smiled at him, her face honest and sweet. She settled herself near him, setting the tray between them.

"I've brought tea," she said, and then flushed, seemingly embarrassed for stating the obvious. It was cute, and Kenshin gave her a gentle smile, one meant to help her relax, too. She poured two cups, sleeve held carefully out the way, and her wrists were as pretty as the rest of her. She set the teapot aside and carefully handed him the steaming cup. He accepted politely, holding the warm cup and completing the familiar, comforting rituals with a feeling of satisfaction.

Kaoru sat _seiza_ even on the hard planks of the porch, her back and shoulders fiercely straight, a bit too tight for elegant beauty; her posture screamed of her many hours spent in a dojo. Honest, she was, down to her core and Kenshin relaxed a bit more.

"It's very pretty tonight, isn't it, Himura-san?" Her voice was quiet, as though afraid to break the peace. Kenshin looked up from his cup, looking at her as she watched the sky.

"Aa, it is." He was silent for a moment. "Kaoru-dono... This one would appreciate it if you would address me as "Kenshin," that I would." She looked over at him, quickly, surprised, and then turned back to the sunset.

"...You don't like 'Himura' much, do you." It really wasn't a question and it was his turn to be surprised. She was insightful for her age. He gently set his cup aside.

" _Himura_ was part of a lie, so it was, made up many years ago to avoid offending others." And no lie should ever pass this girl's lips. She looked over again, and held his gaze for a moment, blue eyes surprisingly shrewd. She looked away, down to her cup.

"Were your people farmers or merchants?" She asked, taking a small sip. Kenshin smiled, a small but sincere one this time at her gentle acceptance.

"Farmers," he replied. She hummed a little sound of acknowledgment, and Kenshin thought the conversation was over.

"What did they grow?" He blinked in surprise and answered without thinking.

"Rice, hemp, and red dye mostly." She smiled over at him, enjoying the little joke. He found himself telling her more without even knowing why. "The women in the village all wove their own cloth. I grew up thinking that fabric only came in red and brown."

Kaoru smiled. "Did you help them weave when you were little? I used to help my mother..."

Kenshin felt his own smile growing. "Aa, this one did." He recalled a fuzzy memory of sitting in a bright little room, watching his mother's elegant hands as the shuttle flew back and forth.

"Did they tease you that the dye had been splashed on your hair?" Kaoru's pretty blue eyes were twinkling a little.

"Of course." And they smiled at each other, sitting there in the darkening twilight, and Kenshin was shockingly content.

Kaoru broke eye contact first, looking aside and reaching for his cup. "Would you like a refill, Kenshin?"


	46. Acceptance

Prompt: A Tale that Changed Everything: flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts

The last bit of this story has dialogue pulled from the Manga and it's underlined so that you know it's not mine and I can't take credit for it.

The last bit of this, the scene from the Manga, is my favorite Kaoru moment **ever** and encapsulates why I love her character. (And yeah, I really think that Kenshin after Kyoto was playing around already with the idea that he could stay, could _marry_ Kaoru, and was struggling with reconciling that to his past, to not having an answer, based on his conversations with Sano.)

Setting: morning after Kenshin's story about his past, one day after Jinchuu was declared.

* * *

Kenshin had known that he needed to tell them, tell _her_ , back when it had been his choice, before life took the decision from him. But how? How did one broach such a topic?

 _Good morning, Kaoru-dono. The soup is nearly ready, and this one killed my own wife in 1864._

It was too late now. His past had brought them terrible danger and they hadn't even known why. So he'd sat and told his story, in frank and excruciating detail, like spilling poison from an overflowing cup. He'd kept his shoulders straight but had looked at his lap and tried not to cringe when he felt the shock and hurt in his family, in Kaoru. He'd told them everything, and now they knew just how damaged he really was, how much horror he'd wrought with his own hands. The most sensible action would be for Kaoru to ask him to leave, to take his damaged, dangerous and stained self elsewhere.

Today, the morning after, he methodically folded away his futon and dressed. He sat and brushed his hair much more slowly and carefully than necessary. He'd not slept, and his stomach was a slowly rolling mass of dread. Today, he would look them in the eyes and see the changes the truth had worked in them, in their perceptions of him. It had been so nice, to pretend with them that he would be able to find peace here, that he might be able to keep this, keep _Kaoru_ , and the loss of something that was never really his shouldn't feel like this. He knew that they would now look at him with disgust or fear, that Kaoru wouldn't look at him with those loving, sparkling eyes and it left him almost breathless with hurt.

He rose mechanically and pushed the sakabatou through his hakama ties. He took a last look around his room. The familiar smells of homewere all there, age and polish cleanliness. His eyes wandered around his room, and he felt a distant surprise that he had managed to accumulate so many _things_. There were several books on the low table. They sat next to a couple of cheap little items that he had won at festival games, the one that they had all attended several months ago, and he had kept them as a momento. There was a nicely painted scroll on the wall that Kaoru had given him from storage one day for no reason at all. There was the quite nice, now well-used sword cleaning kit, next to the sword stand that he never used; his family had all pooled their money and given it to him for Obon. He had three complete sets of clothes, more than he'd ever owned. And there, in its place of honor, was his second most-prized possession; a photograph. They were expensive for people such as they, but Kaoru had insisted, had been saving, and had purchased a tin type of the entire group of them, posed in their nicest clothing at a street fair. It sat in pride of place in the main room, and he had enjoyed it there; he'd been shocked into stuttering when Kaoru had presented him with his own copy, and he had looked at it often with deep pleasure.

He took a deep breath to settle the nausea, and opened the door to sunshine. The world should at least have the decency to rain for him, when his pretend little world had just ended. But such mercy was not forthcoming and the day was lovely, bright and breezy and scented with the flowers in the yard. He stepped onto the porch. He could sense the others in the dojo and Kaoru was humming in the kitchen. She'd always had a rather lovely voice, not fashionable, but strong and sweet and he loved it. He turned towards the well, and dumped a bucket on over his head.

 _I cannot avoid this ,_ he thought. _Nine more days..._

Damn, but Kaoru's footsteps were approaching and Kenshin felt rather like he was facing an executioner. He reluctantly turned her way. She took in his appearance, haggard and wet with well-water, a bucket at his feet. She hadn't slept well either as the smudges under her eyes uncharacteristic.

And then she smiled. She smiled a big, open, lovely smile, just for him. "Good morning, Kenshin!" She chirped, her voice as sweetly happy as it ever was. Kenshin was more shocked than if she'd slapped his face. "Although, it's actually lunchtime. There are a lot of us, so I though we'd eat in the dojo."

Off kilter, Kenshin's voice was hoarse and quiet. "This one... since yesterday, I haven't been very hungry, so-"

"Uh, Ken-san," and Megumi and Tsubame were holding lunch things, and they both were calm and _normal, "_ If you don't eat at least a little, you'll be exhausted later." The girls turned towards the dojo and Kaoru's next words were tossed casually over her shoulder.

"I'll go get a fresh towel, wipe your face and come eat."

And Kenshin stood completely still, breathing deep and nearly light-headed with relief.


	47. Potential Story Teaser

I would like to write another chaptered story, now that I'm feeling a bit better, and have been kicking around ideas. There's currently two main contenders and I'm leaning towards this one. So, this is the potential first bit of a new chapter story, so if you're interested in where this might go, please let me know! Otherwise, I'll go back to the drawing board and try for something better. OR, if you've got an idea, send it to me.

The idea was born because Kenshin's looks are so distinctive,and his past very vague.

Setting: Kenji's a toddler, so... married 3 or 5 years.

* * *

Prologue

Kenshin itched.

It was centered right between his shoulder blades, and that usually meant he was being watched. He smiled cheerfully at his wife as she handed him yet another package, and he managed to balance the thing on top of the stack he already had. He shifted just a bit away from her, but further in front of the sticky, red-haired toddler, effectively hiding the little boy between the leg of his hakama and the vendor's cart.

He quickly and unobtrusively scanned the vicinity and discovered the same thing he'd found for the last hour: nothing. There was nothing; no one had any more malevolent intentions than the dishonest greengrocer two stalls down and the distressingly tatty-looking little pickpocket working the edge of the crowd of shoppers. It was more than likely just someone unduly interested in his sword or his hair, but still... he itched.

"Kaoru-dono, this is surely enough, so it is. This one will not be able to carry much more." Kaoru's sweet blue eyes glanced up and he met her gaze with a mild, passive, open stare: this one is hiding nothing, this one has no deeper thoughts than puddles...

Kaoru's eyes narrowed with frustrating shrewdness- was it really so much to ask that she fall for the Ruruoni act occasionally?- and Kenshin was forced to desperate measures. He minutely shifted his load of packages, allowing a couple to topple, away from his son, and he would have cheerfully allowed them to hit the ground if it meant convincing his wife to get a move on. Kaoru caught both falling things with well-honed reflexes (Kenshin thought that one was radishes and the other must have been her new ribbon) and her pretty face was a study in irritation, but her eyes were still suspicious.

"Mama?" Kenji's smudged face poked out from Kenshin's shadow. "Mama, Kenji tired. Go home?"

Kaoru's beloved face softened for their son, and knowing that she was about to concede, Kenshin didn't quite suppress his small sigh of relief. Her eyes were very sharp now, and the look she gave Kenshin promised something along the lines of 'later: explanations or pain' but she was all smiles for their little boy.

"Of course, Kenji-chan, Mama was just finished," and she quietly paid for the thread for which she'd been bargaining. Kenshin's face was carefully clueless, and he turned his little family towards the safety of home, carefully positioning both wife and son as safely as possible, which was all pretty pointless when he couldn't figure out what he was protecting them from.

They walked in silence for several minutes, weaving through the usual mid-morning crowd, down familiar streets and past familiar vendors. Slightly ahead and to his left, Kaoru was politely acknowledging those people that they knew as they passed by. Kenshin absentmindedly did the same, hoping that he wasn't giving offense as he continued questing for that unknown presence. Finally, the crowd thinned and the last turning towards the dojo inched closer. He twitched his shoulders as the itch intensified.

"Stop!" And Kenshin was turning towards the voice, and dumping the packages into Kaoru's flustered arms, and pushing his little boy to the side of the road all at the same time, as though someone had let the tension from a giant spring. He knew his eyes were sharp blue and his hand on the sakabatou's hilt appeared far from harmless, but no one of good intentions would have followed them all morning and who- ?!

…It was an old woman. No, it was a tiny old woman. It was a tiny old woman that looked quite alarmed by his response and had a completely benign energy. Kenshin relaxed a fraction, still alert for another threat, still high-strung and defensive.

The old woman's mouth was opening and closing, clearly surprised out of whatever she had been about to say.

"Obaa-san?" Kaoru's voice was calm, and she stepped forward slightly. Kenshin took an involuntary half-step forward and in her direction, re-positioning himself between his wife and- the tiny, startled old woman. Kaoru flicked a look at him and he knew that she was debating between soothing him and braining him, but she thankfully choose to address the stranger instead.

"Obaa-san, can we help you?" The little old woman looked to Kaoru. Kenshin had to repress the urge to block her line of sight.

"Err.. yes, I think so." The woman was responding to Kaoru's attempt to mollify her. She looked back to Kenshin, who was still fierce and silent and just beginning to feel foolish. She squared her shoulders. "Yes. Yes, you can."

"What do you want?" Kenshin's voice was harsher than he'd intended.

"It's just... I just couldn't let you get away." Kaoru sucked in a sharp breath and pressed Kenji further behind her. Kenshin was still,, fairly thrumming as he waited for what would happen next.

The woman took a small step forward. "I'd- it's just- your hair..." She pressed a fist against her chest, and her next words were a whisper.

"I'd know you anywhere, Shinta."

* * *

Alright, so I think there's sufficient interest. I'll contact my sublimely superlative beta to see if she's free, and start the research I'll need.

Ka Ru Aras: I'm _flattered_! Thank you so much :)

TricksterBoo: I hope I can do it justice, and keep me grounded with good criticism, okay? ;)

shaid: I'll definitely keep you updated, thanks for the review!

Melay: I like to think he's part kitsune, but I don't write AU or supernatural at this time, so we'll just have to go with foreign blood. :)

kokoronagomu: Thank you, very much. And I totally eat my favorite first; I'm particularly fond of cheesecake.

Aune Lyra and Ryumie: I know! The lack of canon exploration and enrichment is disappointing for the fandom. I hope I can help remedy that.

kaoruca: Aw, thanks for the review, I always appreciate your input.


	48. Imagination

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts Prompt: Cooking (s)

Because Kenshin _is_ a man, and very observant. And celibate. And sometimes that has got to be rough.

Setting: Utterly ambiguous. When do _you_ think it is?

* * *

 _I must be unwell._ Kenshin sat at dinner and watched, without being too obvious, he desperately hoped, as Kaoru chewed a slice of meat with transparent pleasure. _I have clearly lost my mind._ Sano and Yahiko were arguing cheerfully, and Kaoru watched with affection written large in her bright blue eyes, contributing occasionally, but mostly just eating. And Kenshin... Kenshin both loved and hated watching her eat. It wasn't normal.

She was just... such a very _physical_ person, and she ate with a type of sensual indulgence that made him feel tight and hot and terribly adolescent. She was strangely elegant when she wasn't thinking about it, her mother's abbreviated training combining with the natural grace of a martial artist to make her movements confident and correct. Really, her manners were lovely, when she wasn't trying to brain Yahiko with a ladle.

She had this habit of resting the tips of her chopsticks against her lower lip as she chewed sometimes, pressing a little indentation into that plump pink flesh. Watching her do it now was a Very Bad Thing for Kenshin's peace of mind. She ate a bite of vegetables, the ones that Kenshin had sliced and seasoned and sauced knowing that she would be eating them later, and a tiny drop of that brown sauce trembled on that lip for a moment before her little pink tongue swiped out and cleaned her mouth. Kenshin shifted minutely and forcibly focused his attention elsewhere.

He smiled his clueless rurouni smile, internally cursing. He was many things, but he was neither dispassionate nor unimaginative. He knew, down to his marrow, that Kaoru would someday show the same enthusiastic enjoyment with the man that was her husband.

 _Damn._

 _._

 _._

 _._

* * *

Thank you all, so VERY much, for your response and reviews to my last chapter! The teaser and a new chapter are currently with my beta reader, and I'll update everyone when it posts. :)


	49. Morning

Yay! My new story is up! Stolen Heritage is posted here and on Archive of Our Own, with the original teaser and the next chapter. Updates here will slow down while I'm typing away on this other one, but I wanted to post a teeny tiny something so that you all know I haven't died. :) Please check out the new story and thanks for reading!

Setting: The morning after the wedding.

* * *

Kenshin woke slowly, knowing that he was home and things were _right_ , and that he was warm and comfortable in bed. He stretched with relaxed luxury, like a sun warmed cat, and his fingers brushed not-his-own-hair. He blinked awake, turning his head to face Kaoru's sleeping form, and felt himself grin like a fool. _Kamiya Kaoru is my wife..._ He turned the words over his in his mind, and felt … satisfied. Satisfied deep and low in his belly, a primitive and possessive part of him rejoicing. His mouth twisted wryly. He should not admit that aloud if he wished to avoid a concussion.

He turned up onto an elbow and watched _his wife_ sleep. He'd seen her sleeping before, once or twice, but this was different. This was Kaoru sleeping in his bed, _their_ bed, her hair spread around her in an inky mess, a mess he'd made with needy hands. In the dim, pre-dawn light he could see the faint red marks on her collarbone that he'd made, and he suddenly needed to touch her, to prove that she was real. Reverent fingers traced her shoulder, reveled in her soft, scented skin. He scooted forward and coaxed her sleeping form into his arms, laying front to back, resting with _his wife._

He lay there blissfully unconcerned with how late it was becoming, the room brightening with the morning, just breathing in the perfume of Kaoru's hair and the comforting scents of home. Unable to help himself, he stroked a gentle hand across the curve of her small waist, the swell of generous hips.

She stirred, waking as gradually as he had, and he leaned up to drop tiny kisses across her shoulder, nuzzling affectionately against her neck. Teasingly, he blew against the skin there and against her ear, smiling when she batted at him irritably, still mostly asleep. He pulled her more tightly against his chest and nuzzled into her neck again, unaware that his bangs tickled her more than his earlier teasing. She laughed, and swatted him lightly on the head this time.

"Kenshin, I'm sleeping." He huffed a breath that wasn't quite a laugh of his own.

"If you're talking, Kaoru, you're not sleeping."

.

She swallowed against her suddenly dry throat. _What do we do now? Should I- should I make breakfast?_ Kenshin had always done so, but... but she was a wife. _Does he expect that now?_

Kenshin sighed against her neck, and briefly squeezed her against him in a one armed hug. "I should get up and fetch us breakfast; the reception leftovers should suffice, so they should." He rolled away, reaching for his sleeping robe. Kaoru let out a the breath she'd been holding; that was normal and comfortable at least. "You can stay in bed if you like, Kaoru. I'll be back shortly, that I will."

He left the room, and Kaoru lay quiet for just a moment before flipping the covers over her head and indulging in a strange moment of mixed elation and panic. _I am Kenshin's wife._ What, exactly, was a woman like _her_ supposed to do with a husband? She'd never really thought past how badly she'd wanted him for herself, for her own. Now she had him and and didn't know what to _do_ with him. They'd lived together for a long time, he knew she couldn't cook, that she hated flower arranging, that she had no interest in laundry or housework, and he'd married her anyway. They'd never, either of them, conformed to typical gender roles, and she didn't think he'd want her to change. So what exactly was she supposed to do now?

She took a deep breath and sat up abruptly. _Don't be so stupid! If Kenshin wanted a normal wife, he could've just gotten himself one. He wanted_ me _instead, and I'm not going to accomplish anything lying there like a idiot._ She nodded once to herself, firmly, and rolled out bed.

She was brushing out her incredibly tangled hair when her husband let himself back into their bedroom, balancing a tray with a little bit of everything, from the looks of it. She flushed as her stomach growled but Kenshin just smiled his normal, gentle smile. He sat cross legged at the edge of their bed and handed her her rice. She ate quietly, darting little looks at him from the corner of her eye.

.

His new wife was looking at him like he might grow another head at any moment. He offered her another gentle smile, trying to coax her into the relaxation that he felt thrumming through his very bones.

"Would you like to sleep more, Kaoru? Or do you want to dress?"

"I- um- can we really just lay around all day?"

"Until Shishou and the others come to say goodbye tonight, at least. I wouldn't want them to catch us in bed."

Kaoru blinked. "No. No, that would be bad."

Kenshin nodded agreeably. "We'd never hear the end of it." Kaoru briefly imagined _that_ scenario, and began to giggle. Kenshin's smile grew as he watched _his wife_ laughing, more and more amused. Then he, too, began to laugh, for no other reason than that it was a wonderful day.


	50. Matronly

flashfiction 365 . tumblr prompts: Very Subtle (s)

Once again, my actual story departed wildly from the prompt. In any case, I'm struggling with a difficult section for my newest story, so it's drabble time!

Thank you to all of my wonderful readers here, and I hope you'll stay with me as I challenge myself with the monster that is Stolen Heritage. (It's like, 22,000 words now and I'm starting to panic...)

* * *

Kenshin was putting away laundry. The wedding was in two days and everyone had been recruited into the frenzy, cleaning and decorating the dojo to ready it for the reception. The next two days stretched out before them all in an endless, exhausting list of of chores and Kenshin was starting to wish for more time; it seemed that the list of things that Must Be Done couldn't possibly be accomplished in a mere two days.

This afternoon, Tae had gone to work and Kaoru and Tsubame were cloistered in her room. Kenshin propped a basket of clean clothes against his hip and knocked. "Kaoru-dono? May this one come in? Your clothes are dry, so they are."

"Yes, Kenshin! Come in." He slid open the door to... absolute chaos. It looked like his fiancee had declared war on all clothing in general. He hadn't known that Kaoru _had_ this many clothes. Kimono, under kimono, obi, shoes, underclothes... They were everywhere, on every surface, hanging on the walls, in neatly folded piles on the floor, and pouring out of huge trunks that he had never even _seen_ before.

"K- Kaoru-dono?"

Kaoru just smiled at his confusion and rose to meet him as he stood frozen in the hall. "It's fine, Kenshin," she waved a dismissive hand over the disorder. "Is that my yellow kimono?" She reached into the basket and liberated her clean clothing, turning to the side. "Tsubame-chan, would you put this with the others?"

"What... What are you ladies doing, Kaoru-dono?"

Her smile was beautiful, and her eyes were a little dark with something that made Kenshin swallow, hard. "I'm packing away my maiden's kimono, and sorting through my mother's matron's clothing, Kenshin." She blushed, her voice quieting into something private, something that gently excluded the young girl helping her sort the mess. "I'll be a wife, soon."

"...So you will, Kaoru-dono." The way she was still looking at him made Kenshin's heartbeat accelerate, made his mouth go dry. "So you will."

She quietly slid the door shut and Kenshin walked on down the hall. "Two more days..." He whispered to himself. Suddenly, two more days seemed far too long.


	51. Conspiracy

This is a part of the Secret Santa Ruroken Exchange from tumblr, a gift for **Aeri**.

I'm posting here, despite it being long, as perhaps a bit of an apology for the slow updates during Stolen Heritage.

As requested, canon KenKao fluff featuring the entire Kenshin-gumi. I hope you enjoy it!

Setting: After Kyoto, before Jinchuu

* * *

Kenshin was humming softly to himself as he worked. The pain from his wounds had muted into a mere twinge, all the chores associated with airing the dojo were completed, his friends were all home, and he was cooking. It was perfect.

Kenshin looked up as Sano slouched into the kitchen and leaned against the doorjamb. "Yo! Food ready yet?"

Kenshin offered a mild smile. "Almost."

Sano chewed his fishbone, fists in his pockets. "After lunch, let's hit the town."

Kenshin glanced at him from the corner of his eye. "Isn't it a little early to be drinking? This one has chores to finish and then dinner to cook, Sano."

Sano crossed the room and began stealing slices of vegetables. Kenshin narrowed his eyes. "Sano. Those are for everyone. Kindly stop."

Sano snorted, but quit. "Don't be so uptight, Kenshin. Be good for ya to get out and let loose. Jou-chan can live without ya for an afternoon." Kenshin merely shook his head and arranged the food onto trays.

Everyone settled themselves at the table and Kenshin basked in their appreciative looks and comments as he set the table. During the meal there was a noticeable lack of fighting. Kaoru served the food with a mild demeanor. Sano used table manners. Yahiko chewed _._

It was strange.

"Kenshin," Kaoru always said his name differently than anyone else, the 'sh' sound always soft and sibilant. It slithered down Kenshin's spine with a familiar warm tingle. "Sano said you two were going out after lunch?" Her manner was calm, completely without accusation.

"...This one has chores to finish."

"That's alright. Yahiko can finish them." Yahiko spluttered and glared but didn't protest.

It was _bizarre_.

Kenshin raised his eyebrows. "This one has no desire to go out at this time, that I haven't." Kenshin couldn't help but notice the way that Kaoru frowned.

.

.

.

The next morning, Kenshin was in hot, sudsy water up to his elbows, children were laughing, and the weather was mild with warm sunshine on his back. _Some men meditate, I do laundry._ He snapped open a clean, wet towel. "Nice and white!"

"White! White!" Ayame and Suzume danced and giggled.

"Kenshin?" Kaoru said. His eyes crinkled into not-quite-a-smile, the familiar pleasant feeling back again. After six months, he should be inoculated **,** one would think, but her smile and the sound of his name in her mouth were ever beautiful. He looked up at Kaoru-in-training-gear, respectfully ignoring the way that the vee of her collar flashed the top edge of breast binding, the way that it framed graceful collar bones.

"Yes, Kaoru-dono?" Saying her name was nearly as enjoyable as hearing his own.

"Yahiko and I are going to the Maekawa dojo today. We'll be back before dinner." She offered a lovely smile but Kenshin refused to be distracted. He sat back on his heels, and tilted his head to one side..

"The Maekawa dojo? Today is not your normal day, that it isn't."

"Oh, it's an extra day," she waved a hand in a dismissive motion, her voice casual and breezy. Kenshin repressed twitch; she was a terrible actress. _Why is she lying?_

Then little Suzume nearly tripped into the wash basin, and Kenshin caught the little girl, bringing her close to his chest and soothing her startled tears. After she was calm he sat her back on her feet, annoyed that Kaoru had slipped out while he was otherwise occupied. He could hardly drag two small children after her and Yahiko, though, so he was forced to wait. Gensai should be back within the hour for the girls.

.

.

.

Unfortunately, Gensai brought Megumi.

"Ken-san!" She pressed herself into his side and looped both arms around his bicep. This was not helping his mood. "I need to check on your progress." Her expression was pure fox, complete with sly smile. "Why don't we go somewhere private so that you can undress, hmm?" Kenshin's eyebrow twitched.

"Suzume-chan, Ayame-chan, were you good girls today?" Gensai took a chubby hand in each of his own, leading the little girls toward the gate.

"Yes! Bye bye, Ken-nii!" Ayame waved.

"Bye bye!" Suzume voice was a little garbled around the index finger in her mouth. Kenshin waved, and nearly sighed, resigning himself to fending off Megumi for the next hour.

"This one is certain that the main room will be fine, Megumi-dono. No one else is home."

Megumi giggled, a little tinkling sound, well-trained and deliberately feminine. "Ah, so we're all alone, Ken-san. How nice…"

Megumi was always a consummate professional during an exam, sparing Kenshin the mortification of being flirted with while partially undressed. He slipped his kimono back on his shoulders with mixed feelings of relief and dread; redressed, Megumi considered him fair game. She invited herself for a longer visit, and Kenshin was unable to refuse without being unforgivably rude. So he found himself in the kitchen making tea, and chafing against the delay.

Kenshin returned to the dining table with the tea tray and seated himself opposite of Megumi.

"Ken-san! You're so far away," she pouted, and he twitched. He was beginning to fear forming a permanent tick. She usually didn't bother being this flirty when Kaoru wasn't present. Kenshin was beginning to form unpleasant suspicions. _She is doing this deliberately. Why?_ Megumi's games were generally transparent, but there was no obvious reason for this today…

There was a bright and open _ki_ approaching the dojo, and Kenshin was now certain. They were _all_ up to something.

"Yo!" Sano called his usual greeting and let himself into the house, carrying some sort of package. He was startled by Kenshin's openly peevish expression, then visibly shook it off, dropping onto a cushion next to Megumi. Kenshin did not offer him tea. Megumi hastily poured Sano a cup.

"Kenshin, you wanna put this in the kitchen?" He jerked his head toward the package. Kenshin didn't look away, deliberately maintaining eye contact.

"What is it?"

"Salmon. Thought you could make that into something good for dinner."

"...You brought food?"

"Yep." Sano's voice was so satisfied as to be smug. Kenshin allowed his expression to devolve into glaring.

"Hey! Can't a guy do something nice?! Geez." Kenshin pressed his mouth into a firm line and rose, scooping up the package and carrying it to the kitchen. He glided silently back to the dining room, lingering outside the door with practiced stealth.

They were whispering. "Sano, you idiot! Can't you be more subtle? Did you see his face?"

"It ain't my fault, Foxy! He's probably just pissed that you're still here!"

She sniffed and tossed her shiny hair. " _My_ presence is at least-" She cut off as Kenshin reentered the room. They wouldn't say anything informative once they began bickering, and he didn't want to be gone a conspicuously long time. He sank back to his seat with swift grace, and checked the hall clock: _four o'clock._ He'd been stalled for two and half hours with all of this nonsense and that was plenty of time for Kaoru and Yahiko to do… _whatever_ it was that they probably shouldn't be doing.

He watched his friends making strained small talk and drinking Kaoru's tea with irritation. He'd begun contemplating the merits of simply throwing them out when there was a clatter at the gate, bringing two familiar and beloved _ki_ into the yard.

"I'm home!" Kaoru chirped. She _chirped._ Birds chirped. Misao chirped. Kaoru did not generally chirp, and Kenshin felt something mutinous twist through his gut.

"Welcome home, Kaoru-dono." He carefully modulated his voice, and wiped the glare from his face. _Time to switch tactics._ Kaoru was imminently susceptible to guilt, and absolutely terrible at keeping secrets.

"Oh, tea! Perfect." She smiled and set down a package of her own. Kenshin watched her with a carefully bland smile. He did not inquire about the package, nor did he ask why Yahiko had gone to the storage shed. "Kenshin, I bought some tea cakes. Would you like some?"

Damnit. He loved sweets and she knew it. She liberated several from the little package at her side and offered them. To him. She completed ignored Megumi, took none for herself, and slapped Sano's hand when he attempted to intercept the treat. Kenshin accepted them, and then ate them despite his foul mood. Kaoru was using his weaknesses against him, and he knew it. It didn't stop him from eating three of the cakes.

Yahiko let himself in and plopped down at the table and Kenshin almost slipped into a glare. Neither of them were sweaty. Neither Kaoru nor Yahiko had broken a sweat "training at the Maekawa dojo" for _two hours_.

Instead, Kenshin put on a rurouni smile. "It is time for this one to begin dinner, so it is. Kaoru-dono, would you please assist me?"

Kaoru blinked, cup halfway to her mouth. "Eh?"

He _very_ rarely asked anyone to help, instead preferring to do it himself. He'd been raised by a hermit, after all, and time alone was something that he required for his own peace of mind.

"No!" Yahiko yelped. "No, you can't have Busu help in the kitchen!"

"Kenshin," Sano's eyes darted nervously to Kaoru. "That's not a good idea, man. That salmon was expensive!"

"Tanuki can't cook, Ken-san." Kaoru glared at the lady doctor. "I'll help you."

Kenshin just kept smiling. Kaoru was definitely the one most likely to let whatever-this-was slip when pressed. Kenshin was determined to get her alone for some subtle interrogation. Kaoru calmly set her cup on the table.

"Of course I'll help, Kenshin; you only ever have to ask." She smiled, calm and confident. _Oro?_ "Megumi-san, why don't you come help, too?" _Oro!_ "I was thinking that we could try something a little nice tonight. More hands make less work, right?"

It was willpower alone that kept Kenshin's mouth closed instead of letting it drop open like an idiot. Kaoru leaned over and pulled on Kenshin's sleeve as she rose, dragging him into the kitchen before he could formulate a reasonable objection.

Thus Kenshin was trapped in the kitchen with two very determined women. Every verbal thrust on his part was met by an immediate, and completely inane, parry. Kaoru and Megumi kept up a loud and rapid fire conversation about nonsense, including Megumi's favorite color (purple like his eyes), and how Kaoru had slept the night before (very well, thank you).

Kenshin looked down at the sauce he was making and paused. _Wait._ Loud _. Why are they being so loud_? Tipped off, he strained his ears over the determinedly chatting ladies and listened for Sano and Yahiko in the main room. There were muted thumps, and the front door slid open and closed. Yahiko was whispering, obviously attempting to conceal his higher voice, and Sano was quiet and as well, just a baritone rumble. Kenshin dried his hands, and took a step towards the door with a bland smile so wide that his eyes closed.

"This one left the-"

Kaoru immediately shoved a small pile of sliced vegetables onto the floor. "Oops! Oh no, Kenshin, I'm sorry!" Her eyes were wide and innocent. "I'm just all thumbs in the kitchen!" She gave a nervous laugh that could only be described as a titter _._ ... _She is simply no good at dishonesty._

Megumi's sharp eyes noted his disbelief, and she pushed away from the high counter to attach herself to his arm.

"We can take care of this, can't we, Ken-san?"

"Oro?"

"Well, then…" Kaoru edged around them towards the door. "I'll just go get changed for dinner…" Kaoru was leaving him - alone - with _Megumi._ Kenshin gaped. "I'll be back soon." She opened the door just wide enough to slip through it sideways and then closed to firmly behind her. Kenshin's wide eyes swung from the closed door to the doctor.

She smiled, slow and sly. Kenshin swallowed hard and leaned a little away from her. "Alone again, Ken-san…"

.

.

.

It took Kaoru _thirty minutes_ to get dressed. Kenshin knew, because he'd kept track. For thirty minutes, he had been trapped in the kitchen with a very, very determined doctor. It was rather like cooking with a pet octopus. At Megumi's insistence, he was just rearranging the dinner tray for the second time when Kaoru stepped back in through the door.

Kenshin felt his irritation fall away from him like water. Kaoru looked… very nice. She was wearing her blue kimono with the pattern of white butterflies. It always made her eyes look so blue, and the dark color contrasted with her pale skin in a very appealing way. Her hair was- it was _up_ , in a chignon, drawing attention to her slim neck. She was biting her lower lip, her eyes cast down, and she was looking up at him through her lashes. Kenshin loved Kaoru bold and lively. Her vibrant nature was a bit like the blue kimono though; when Kaoru was quiet, the contrast made it seem shockingly intimate.

"K- Kaoru-dono?" His tongue felt thick. Megumi stepped back and silently took a tray from the counter to the dining room.

Kaoru offered him a beautifully shy smile. "We're ready, Kenshin." She pushed open the door and stepped aside. The others were there, Yahiko and Sano and Megumi, already seated and looking at him with expressions like proud children, puffed up and pleased. The room had been rearranged, and this was obviously meant to be a party. Kaoru brushed past him with the second tray, seating herself to set out the unusually nice meal they had made. "Come sit." Kenshin walked forward and sank onto his cushion.

Kaoru smoothed the fabric over her knees. "I know that there were a lot of parties at the Aoiya, but- but we wanted to do something small, just us. As a welcome home." Kenshin's chest tightened as he looked around the table.

Yahiko was squirming so hard that he was almost dancing in his seat. "Can we do the presents yet?"

"Presents keep, kid, but food gets cold."

"Shut up, Roost-"

"We should eat first," Kaoru interrupted. They looked at Kenshin, who just looked back at them, his mind scrambling for coherency, having forgotten every polite form and manner he'd ever learned.

"Yes," he stuttered, which was apparently adequate. The blessing was said, and everyone ate with the usual chaotic good cheer. After the last grain of rice was gone and the last compliment on the meal offered, Yahiko presented a small gift with an enormous smile. Kenshin knew that he should protest, or refuse, but with _these_ people what was the point? They were so pleased, so excited, and Kenshin refused to spoil any of that with formality. It was just family here, after all.

"This is from me!"

" _Us,_ kid, it's from _us._ " Sano aggressively mussed Yahiko's hair and then grinned at Kenshin. "We saved up for it." Kenshin reached out and took the gift. It felt like there were several components. Although the furoshiki was quite nice, it was inexpertly wrapped, which implied that Yahiko had done it himself. Kenshin's heart did that strange squeeze again.

"Open it!" Kenshin thought that Yahiko resembled nothing so much as an excited puppy. Kenshin sat the present on the table and carefully unwrapped it with all due gravity. Yahiko leaned forward, waiting. Sano leaned backwards onto his hands, grinning even wider.

It was a sword cleaning kit. A really rather nice one. Kenshin looked down at the gift, examining the different little pieces, then gave them an honest smile. "Thank you, Yahiko, Sano. This is certain to be useful."

Megumi clapped her hands. "Next!" She reached under the low table and withdrew an exquisitely wrapped item, presenting it to him politely. He accepted with a matching politeness. She gave him a sincere smile for the first time that day. "Open it," she said quietly.

This time is was, of all things, a wind chime. Kenshin blinked at, then carefully held it up and swung the clapper. The tone was lovely, mellow and soothing. "Thank you very much, Megumi-dono."

"It's for the porch, obviously. Because you enjoy sitting and working outside, and _your home_ should contain things you enjoy." _Oh._ Kenshin looked down and the windchime again. _A very nice gift, indeed._

Kaoru shifted and suddenly looked rather nervous. She withdrew several soft, bulky packages from under the table and presented them. Kenshin gave her a gentle smile as he accepted them, because it didn't matter what she had gotten him. It didn't matter what any of them had gotten for him; he would treasure the items simply because they had given them from a place of generosity, from affection. He carefully opened the first, and was met with fabric. A nice, heavy blue-gray fabric, obviously used from the soft feel of the cloth, but without visible signs of wear and of a nice quality. He ran a finger along a seam and noted Kaoru's fine neat stitches.

"It was Father's." Her voice was as nervous as her face, her blue eyes slightly uncomfortable and very vulnerable. "I know that- that I've given you something of his before, but your clothes really suffered in Kyoto, and winter is coming up soon. Your kimono are all so thin, and I thought that you should really have some warmer clothes, and-"

"It's very nice, Kaoru-dono." He gently interrupted her babbling. Curious, he turned down the left-hand collar and smiled, tracing a finger over the little embroidered black cat charm that she had sewn into all of his clothing at some point or other. There were hakama in the next present, and a warm winter coat in the last. Kenshin had never owned so many clothes before, and it had been years since he'd had a full set of clothing of this quality. The quilted padding in the coat appeared quite warm: a practical and thoughtful gift. Every one of the items had been altered to fit his smaller frame, all the seams and hems stitched by Kaoru's own hand. It must have taken untold hours. _How did I not notice her doing this_?

Kenshin ran a careful hand over the items, and swallowed. "This one... does not know what else to say." He looked up at his family. "Thank you."

"Alright!" Sano sat up and produced sake from somewhere. "Enough of this mushy crap. Let's drink!"

.

.

.

Kenshin stepped back and admired his work; the wind chime was hung neatly from the roof, its mellow chimes complementing the quiet dark of the night. The house was mostly empty now, Sano and Megumi gone, and Yahiko snoring in his bed. Kenshin's head was still buzzing pleasantly from sweet sake, just enough so that he seated himself on the porch a little more carefully than usual.

"Kenshin, would you like some tea?" Kaoru stepped outside holding a tray, her face mostly in shadow on the moonless night.

"Aa, that would be very nice. Thank you, Kaoru-dono." She settled herself to his left and placed the tea tray slightly behind them, handing him a steaming cup and another tea cake. He offered her a smile that was just a little bit silly and gratefully took them both, eating the cake while he waited for his tea to cool.

Kaoru, kneeling next to him, was quiet, looking into her tea cup and tracing its rim with long, graceful fingers. His gaze wandered from her pale fingers to her pale neck, tracing her bare nape with his eyes.

 _Kaoru… Kaoru has a lovely neck_. Kenshin blinked and blindly took a sip of too-hot tea. _I shouldn't have had that last cup of sake…_ He carefully looked at the stars instead of at the pretty woman sitting so close to his side.

"We've been trying to have this party all week, you know. We couldn't get you to leave the house."

"Ah. Yesterday with Sano." _I'd wondered…_

"Yesterday? I've been trying to get you out of the house for three days! I was starting to think you were going to become a hermit."

"Oro? … This one was only happy to be home, that I was." The silly smile was back, but Kaoru seemed pleased by it, so Kenshin was content to let it remain in place.

"Yes. Home." She looked over and smiled back, and Kenshin caught his breath; there were more stars in her eyes than in any night sky.

* * *

 **Also,** Have a Merry Christmas, and/or a Contented Feast of the Immaculate Conception, or Happy Hanukkah, or Joyous Kwanzaa, or a Kickn' "Tet,"or a Blissful Bodhi Day, or a Cheerful Maunajiyaras, or Wonderful Festival of Lights, or a Blessed Ramadan,or a Good Winter Solstice, and/or a Joyful Canadian Boxing Day, and a Festive Festivus,and a Happy New Year **all you lovely internet people!**


	52. Passion

_Prompt: What You're Longing For_

This is a mesh of anime and Manga verse, because Kaoru was just so cute when Kenshin was holding her bridal style before she fainted. It's honestly one my favorite anime scenes. Manga!Kenshin holding her under one arm like a sack of potatoes is just less sexy. The rest is all manga verse though.

I had this question of how Kenshin must have found where she lived...

Setting: first meeting

* * *

 _Kamiya Kasshin Ryu_... Kenshin grimaced and recalled the direction that the girl had charged from originally. There was not telling how long she'd been wandering around looking for him, and there was no guarantee that her home was in that direction. Kenshin sighed. It would be more than awkward to ask for directions with an unconscious girl bleeding in his arms, but it appeared that it couldn't be helped...

Kenshin stopped and blinked. _Right. Bleeding._ He glanced down at her arm, and the stain didn't appear to be spreading rapidly, but it was larger than he would like. He carefully put her down, propped against a building, and fished his (mostly) clean towel out of his pack. He wrapped it firmly around the girl's arm, over her clothes, just to stop the blood flow. He looked around, hoping to find someone out on the street at this hour... _Damn. Never anyone loitering when it's convenient._

"Forgive me, Miss. This one will not leave you for long." He walked to a nearby house, keeping an eye on the girl, and knocked politely. The owner was thankfully both helpful and knowledgeable and gave Kenshin workable directions to the girl's school. The unconscious weight of the girl in his arms, however slight, was becoming heavy by the time he spotted the sign. He sighed in relief.

He stood outside of the gate. "Pardon me? Pardon me?" He felt like an idiot calling out with the girl in his arms, but he hated to put her down again. Fortunately there were footsteps from within. He waited. He sighed. _It would be nice if the person were faster, that it would._ Just as the gate was creaking open, the girl began to stir in his arms.

"Oro! Miss?" She mumbled and snuggled her face into his chest. Kenshin could feel the blush crawling up his neck.

"Kaoru-san!" An older man stood within the gate with a bland expression and _ki_ that felt like swimming in oil. Kenshin disliked him instantly. "What happened?"

"She's been injured," as any idiot could see. "Perhaps there is a place where she could rest?"

"Yes, yes." The man bustled away, towards what was obviously a training hall. The girl- Kaoru-dono- had a nice home here but it appeared sadly run down. Kenshin laid her on the gleaming dojo floor. _Well, the training hall isn't run down. It must be important to them._

The man- Kiheh- returned with a wet towel and sponged the girl's face until she woke.

She sat up, gripping her injured arm. "Kiheh! Rurouni? You... brought me home."

"Kaoru-san, we should clean and care for your wound."

"Yes..." The girl – Kaoru-dono – pulled her arm out of her clothing and sat cross-legged, her arm and half of her bound breasts exposed. Kenshin felt a blush crawl across his damnably pale skin and spun away. He contentiously examined the plaques at the head of the training hall while she launched into an explanation of her strange behavior: assaulting him and attempting to fight that giant in the middle of the street. It all made Kenshin _sad;_ sad that this girl was being threatened by his shadow, eleven years into Meiji.

Her voice hitched a bit and Kenshin reflexively looked to her. She was getting stitches. She was getting _stitches_ and the only betrayal of how much such a thing hurt was a slight change in her voice as she lectured him about family honor. Her cheeks were flushed with passion for her subject, her breast bindings were rather perilously low, and her eyes spat fire. Despite himself, Kenshin felt something hot and strange settle in his stomach.

 _This girl... I will protect this girl..._


	53. Crush

Because Kenshin is sweet and respectful and looks much younger than he is...

Setting: About 15 years post Manga.

* * *

Kenshin was sweeping the yard, carefully not watching his eldest son _flirt._ She was a pretty little thing, the older sister of one of Kaoru's students, and she had long, shining hair and huge, soft dark eyes. Kenji became a stuttering, red faced mess every time Aiko came around.

Kenshin smiled down at the dirt, under this carefully concealing bangs. _He's growing up, so he is._ It was cute, seeing his fierce, bold and focused son reduced to a blushing, head-scratching wreck by a girl. Kenji would shriek like a banshee if anyone ever expressed that aloud, but that didn't make it less true. Yahiko had been teasing Kenji mercilessly.

.

.

.

The next day, Kenji was out fetching groceries for dinner when little Aiko came around. It was unusual, that; it was not her brother's day for lessons. Perhaps he had forgotten something yesterday. Kenshin put down his laundry and turned a pleasant smile her way.

"Good morning, Aiko-dono. Can this one be of assistance?"

"Oh, um, Kamiya-san. Good morning. I was just... passing by, and I thought, um..." She was looking up at Kenshin through thick lashes and twirling her hair around her finger. Kenshin felt himself break into a nervous sweat. _Surely not._

"I just thought that I would come by, and- and ask if maybe you would like company?" She was blushing. She- she was wearing makeup!

"A- Aiko-dono, this one is- is quite busy, that I am. _My wife_ will be done with classes any minute and this one must make lunch. Kenji will be home soon; this one is certain that he will have time to spend with you, that I am."

She looked disappointed briefly, then lifted her chin. "I would rather not. I find that I do not care overly much for spending time with _children."_

Kenji was twelve to her thirteen. Kenshin began edging away from her. "Well, then, Aiko-dono. This one must return to my chores. Please excuse me." Then he fled into the house like a rabbit pursued by wolves; he didn't stop until he reached the kitchen. Once there, he clapped a hand over his eyes and counted to twenty.

Kenshin could imagine the newspaper headlines now: "Local Man Killed in Explosion as His Son Combusts."

 _This one is a dead man..._


	54. Anxiety

I'm trying to write a happy and poignant scene for Stolen Heritage, but for some damn reason I am completely consumed with angsty writing desires not at all conducive to what I am _supposed_ to be writing... It's not that great, but I really needed the purge.

 **Please read, or where I'm coming from might not make sense:**

Kaoru as a character is remarkable in her ability to love, without reservation, people that others would never consider loving: a homeless veteran with PTSD, a traumatized orphan, an emotionally scarred thug, a freed prisoner/drug manufacturer. Loving someone with problems like these is often difficult, and that's a fact.

Please know that suffering from an anxiety disorder is not a reflection on your loved ones, or your surroundings, or even how happy you are with your life. It is a reflection of your own state of mental illness (and it _is_ a mental illness, not a weakness). Anxiety disorders are an internal and personal struggle, aided by adequate rest, routine, lack of stress, and control of one's environment.

Setting: post canon, pre wedding.

* * *

Kaoru ran a gentle finger of the rim of the lovely little bowl; she had spotted them at a little stall near the Akabeko on her way home from a wedding planning session with Tae. The bowls were a nice set of six, obviously for festive occasions, glazed a pretty blue with delicate hand-painted blossoms. Their current set was mismatched and chipped, as side effect of her raucous student and Sano's eating habits. Kaoru looked up and began a fierce negotiation with the vendor.

Once home, she sneaked into the kitchen, Kenshin's domain, to put them away. She eyed the limited shelf space and frowned; there wasn't room. It took a fair bit of rearranging, but she managed to get everything safely put away. She stepped back, admiring the little bowls again, smiled proudly. _Won't Kenshin be pleased!_

The wedding planning, with it's requisite chaos and frequent visitors, had been a little hard on him. It wasn't cold feet; she knew without a trace of doubt that Kenshin was happy to be getting married, was happy to be with her. No, it was that Kenshin positively reveled in domestic routine, and the coming wedding had disrupted nearly every day for the past frantic four weeks. Kaoru knew that he'd been stressed by the disturbance, and the tension in his shoulders and set of his mouth transmitted an anxiety that not even the ever-present rurouni smile could hide. Hopefully her pretty little surprise would bring him pleasure.

Kaoru left the kitchen with a light heart.

Kenshin met her in the hall, and smiled for her. "You seem happy this evening, Kaoru-dono."

"Yes!" Kaoru smiled broadly. "It's a nice day," she briefly brushed against his side as she passed by him, tangling their fingers together for the barest moment. A glance over her shoulder revealed that his smile had softened into something more genuine before he turned towards the kitchen, and Kaoru hummed a happy little tune.

She combed out her hair for dinner, tying it back into one her favorite ribbons, then began work on the wedding decorations; there was only another two weeks to go, and still so much to do.

.

.

.

An hour later, Kaoru pushed the tedious work away and rose, stretching stiff legs and shaking out a numb foot. _Maybe Kenshin would like some help finishing up dinner._

In the hallway, she frowned; there wasn't the usual smells of merrily cooking dinner. In the kitchen, she gasped and pressed her fingers to her mouth. "Kenshin?" No meal was cooking and Kenshin was on his hands and knees, fiercely scrubbing the floor, the contents of every shelf choatically heaped on the counters. He looked beyond stressed; he looked manic. She took a small step forward. "Kenshin?" He silently shook his head and kept scrubbing. She sank to her knees, extending a hand towards him, not quite touching. "Kenshin, what's wrong?"

He flinched away from her, and when he spoke his voice was low and tight. "Please, Kaoru-dono... wait in the dining room. This one will prepare dinner soon."

Kaoru lowered her hand, sat back on her heels, and again pressed a hand to her mouth. For a few moments, she just watched him work at scrubbing an already gleaming kitchen, then silently rose and left the room.

She sat alone in the dining room for _hours_ , listening to Kenshin clean and re-clean the kitchen, as night fell outside. At some point, she'd cried as quietly as she could, knowing that this was her fault, that she never should have intruded in a place that he considered his own, that she was responsible for pushing calm, strong Kenshin right over the edge into... whatever this was. It was nearly nine o'clock before Kenshin emerged from the kitchen, hands chapped raw from vinegar and harsh soap, the knees of his hakama soaked, his hair a mess, and his face hidden behind his bangs.

He sat silently at the table across from her, his gaze focused down onto his reddened hands. "I'm sorry, Kaoru-dono." His voice was hoarse.

Kaoru shook her head and leaned forward. "No! No, it's my fault, Kenshin, I'm sorry! I just thought that they were pretty, and that you would like them, and-"

"There is nothing to apologize for." He finally looked up, and Kaoru's throat clenched at the mix of anger and shame in his face. "The bowls _are_ nice, and you only rearranged a shelf... it's... I-" He looked down. "They are just bowls... This one is foolish."

Kaoru shuffled around to his side of the table. "You are _not_ foolish, Kenshin." She reached out hesitantly, and when he did not pull away, she rested a hand on his shoulder, leaning close. "I shouldn't have intruded in your space; you ask very little." He was silent, and feeling a little desperate, Kaoru leaned forward completely, and rested her forehead against him. There was another moment of stillness and then he abruptly turned, pulled her into his arms and held her tightly, both hands fisted in the back of her kimono.

"This one does not deserve you, Kaoru-dono," his voice was muffled against her neck.

Kaoru wrapped her arms firmly around him. "You deserve _everything_ , Kenshin... It's okay. You're okay." She whispered reassuring nonsense into his hair until his hands loosened their grip and he pulled away.

He looked at her through his bangs. "There is leftover onigiri if you're hungry."

"That sounds nice." Kaoru curled her fingers around his own, and his smile was tired and tentative and grateful; she found it beautiful.

* * *

.

.

.

(I'm posting an edit as Melay is a guest and can't receive a PM.)

With anxiety disorders, a personal struggles with anxiety on a daily, hourly, minute by minute basis. (PTSD is an anxiety disorder.) Routine soothes anxiety; the wedding has disrupted Kenshin's routine. The wedding is a serious life change, and even happy changes are stressful. And finally, a person suffering from anxiety finds reassurance in control. Kenshin controls the daily routine of the Kamiya dojo; not in a domineering way, but in a 'this is my area, I keep it clean, I keep it organized in a way that makes me comfortable. The kitchen is mine and it is kept the way that I want.' Cooking a meal or keeping a garden is a soothing, an action in which an individual control the variables and directs the outcome.

When anxiety begins to build, a person begins holding on to themselves by their very fingernails, willing themself to stay calm, to stay in control. When a person's anxiety spikes, often by an assault on one of their coping techniques (Kaoru's well-intentioned but disastrous rearranging of Kenshin's safest space) a person may compulse. (I found this most likely for Kenshin; I cannot see him freezing, nor lashing out)

A compulsion, like cleaning, soothes anxiety by re-exerting control. It is involuntary, something a person must do, and generally occurs when someone's anxiety reaches a level at which mere willpower is not enough. The compulsion will not stop until the anxiety is soothed to acceptable levels.

It is often embarrassing in the extreme, a physical manifestation of a mental illness, most of which carry stigma. Many people with anxiety disorders feel that they burden people with their uncontrollable actions.

Anxiety disorders, like all mental illness, are a difficult and ongoing struggle, both for the person that suffers, and the people that love them.


	55. Honeymoon

A little bit of fluff to offset the angst.

Setting: a few days after marriage.

* * *

Kenshin hummed softly as he made breakfast, the rice resting and the soup bubbling away. The vegetables he'd brined should be nicely pickled and ready today. He pulled dishes from the shelf, including a nice new set that Kaoru had recently bought. They really _were_ pretty, and a few nice memories with them would be pleasant. He smiled, feeling Kaoru coming down the hall and approaching the kitchen. They only had three more days until the normal, happy chaos of lessons and visitors resumed, and Kenshin had every intention of enjoying each minute of time alone with his bride. He was ladling out some soup to cool when slim, strong arms curled around his chest and sweet curves pressed warmly against his back. He paused and leaned back slightly, enjoying the feel of his _wife._

Kaoru squeezed him lightly. "Breakfast smells good. Do you want to eat at the dining table or in bed?" He suppressed the urge to groan at the sleepy, husky tone to her voice.

Kenshin hesitated; he'd rather horrifically neglected his chores since the wedding. "Perhaps breakfast in the dining room and dinner in bed?"

"Mmm... breakfast in the dining room and lunch in bed?" She countered.

"Aa, Kaoru." With motivation like that, he could accomplish a fair amount of work in just a few hours.

"I'll help with chores today." Another light squeeze and she released him, stepping away. "And I'll start by helping carry breakfast to the table."

He turned his head to smile for her, and froze, a bowl of pickles held mid-air. Kaoru was wearing _his_ kimono, belted very casually, and the worn, soft cloth gaped in the front. His fingers twitched. Then he blindly shoved the pickles onto the counter and pulled her into his arms, burying his face in her collar. She smelled like heaven: flowers and _him_ ; his scent lingering her skin and on his clothes, and something hot and possessive slithered down his spine.

"Kenshin?"

"Breakfast can wait, that it can." And her happy laughter had always sounded like music to him.


	56. Steal

They were sitting on the porch, drinking tea and watching dusk fall, as they did nearly every night. They often didn't speak, instead simply being together. Kaoru was sitting quietly, all big blue eyes and pretty pointed chin and sweet, soft-looking lips. She looked over at him and smiled, and Kenshin watched her for a long moment; her smile had changed since their engagement, becoming something more intimate, something more inviting. And Kenshin had been so very good, for so very long, but his heartbeat was doing something funny in his chest... Blindly, he pushed away his tea and swayed forward, just a little. Kaoru's smile melted into surprise and she carefully sat aside her own cup.

Then the whole world was just blue eyes and he scooted towards her without thought, watching until those blue eyes closed... and then it was just another few inches, and his own eyes closed at that first touch. His hand slid to the back of her neck, tilting her face just _there_ while he kissed her just _so._ She didn't know how to kiss, and something warm lit in his stomach at the knowledge. Carefully, so carefully, he coaxed her to move, just a little, a chaste press of closed lips.

Her mouth was soft and she was hesitant; her hands fluttered like little birds to land on his shoulders. Kenshin's head was filling with the scent of her, flowers and soap. He resisted the temptation to taste, and he wanted to, greedy now that he'd begun this. He wanted to know if she tasted like she smelled, or like the tea that they'd been drinking. He wanted that soft side glide into her mouth, wanted to explore the smooth, blunt edge of her teeth. More than that, he didn't want to frighten or disgust her. Instead, he raised a shaking hand to her jaw, and led her into a very old dance.

After a few seconds, she started to gain a bit of confidence, and threaded her fingers into his hair. The static in his head got louder. He moved further forward, and was rewarded with Kaoru; she surged into him like a wave, pressing against him. He gasped quietly, sucking in a breath of air around her lips. She wound her arms around his neck, and it was so much, almost too much... It was different than the only other time he'd felt her against him; there was no sorrow and no desperation, just simple pleasure, savoring the warm weight of her, her soft curves...and _greed._ So much greed, growing stronger with every heartbeat.

Pulling some self-control from deep in his belly, he pulled away and rested his forehead against hers, his breath quick and his pulse rabbit-fast. He watched those beloved blue eyes flutter open, her confused, dilated eyes looking into his own, so close that she was blurry and it didn't matter. A smile pulled at his lips, spreading over his face, and he was filled with a giddy delight that it didn't fit a adult, that was more appropriate for a boy. Kaoru pulled away a little, her arms loosening around him, and her own smile blooming before his eyes. She lowered her arms, and turned away, facing forward. She licked her lips, her cheeks dusting with pink now that it was over. He watched her, watched her smile and look away with blush tinting her cheeks; she raised a hand and rested her fingers on her lips – because of _him._

He watched her with wonder, and pride, and fell impossibly more in love than before.


	57. Speaking

Eiji sat quietly against the wall and watched his brother sweat through the thousand strokes their mother had assigned. It was full dark, he was nearly done now, and the older boy's face was a brilliant red.

"Ung!" Kenji finished, stepping out of form and walking stiffly to the rack to put away the shinai.

Eiji closed his book and set it aside, speaking quietly. "Would you like something to drink?" He offered the ladle as his brother slid down the wall to sit next to him. They were both quiet for a moment and Eiji watched the other boy patiently, waiting for the explosion.

"It's not fair!" _There it is._

"...Did you really call Dad a 'stone statue?'"

Kenji's face was mutinous. "It's not fair to be punished for the _truth._ "

"But how is that truth?"

"Mom made him that new yukata, the one with all the stitching? And he took it from her, barely smiled, and just 'thank you, Kaoru-dono' like she'd poured him tea or something and Mom was all happy, like he'd done something, like he'd thanked her the way he _should_ have -"

"Kenji, if Mom was happy, why aren't you?"

"Because she deserves more! She busts her ass, taking care of us all and that took her _forever._ "

"But he smiled and said 'thank you' and she was happy. What more is there?" Kenji just huffed and looked away, and Eiji's confusion only grew.

"Mom tries really hard, you know? He should… love her more."

"Dad. Should love her more." Eiji took a slow breath and tried to speak with his usual calm understanding. "Did you know that Dad says that my _ki_ is really quiet?"

"Oro?" Kenji scowled immediately after he said it; he hated the sound he made when he was surprised and Eiji's lips twitched.

"Yeah. He says that the rest of you are all bright and noisy but that I'm really quiet in the mind. I guess that's why he never feels me coming." Kenji was the one confused now, and Eiji did smile this time. "I guess that's why I always catch them."

"Catch them what?"

Eiji resettled against the wall. "Kissing, mostly."

"I - what?! You - they're kissing?"

"All the time." Eiji nodded.

"Huh." Kenji shifted and started out at the quiet dojo. " _Kissing_?"

Eiji grinned. "All the time: in the kitchen, in the yard, in the hallway, here -"

Kenji groaned. "Not in the dojo!"

"Uh huh… Kenji, haven't you ever noticed? How he always sits with her? Touches her shoulder? Brings her stuff?"

"Just flowers, and dumb stuff."

Eiji's expression turned wry. "Women like stuff like that. Dad's not a 'statue,' you're just not paying attention." He stood up. "Mom is happy, Kenji. You should be, too."


	58. Understanding

Prompt: Rosemary (s)

Kenji, my problematic fav. I _want_ to love Kenji, you see, and I've spent some serious brainspace contemplating his character. Watsuki described him in an interview or fanbook or something as terribly arrogant, a prodigy, and I've finally decided - he's shockingly like his father. (At 14, Kenshin was all fire and passion and arrogance - and compassion, but this is another post in itself). When you are very, very like a parent, it creates friction for a child attempting to carve out their own identity. Kenshin is a cautious and private person, shaped by terrible life experiences, and while I think that Kenshin deeply understands Kenji, I think that Kenji has trouble understanding his father. _Love_ his father, yes, but understand him, no. And all of that is complicated by Kenji's staunch loyalty to all of his family, and his protectiveness of his mother.

And, of course, Kenji is a teenager. (God help me, my son will be 13 this summer.)

As requested by Kenji-chan! (thank you for reviewing, dear) It's not _quite_ what you had in mind, so I hope you enjoy.

A follow up fic of "Speaking."

Setting: Eh, I see Kenji as about 15 here.

* * *

It was cooking lessons today, and the menu was a nice little vegetable soup; Kaoru was ever determined to expand her repertoire of edible meals.

"Not that much, Kaoru-dono, only a sprinkle." Kenshin stepped closer to his wife's back, sandwiching her between the kitchen counter and his own body. He touched the back of the hand that held the leafy green herb. Kaoru paused, startled into stillness like a forest creature.

"Oh. How much should I use then?"

He smiled, and guided her to drop about half the bunch she had selected, blatantly caressing her hand as he did so. "That should be enough, so it should." Kaoru's breathing accelearted and Kenshin's smile grew; the children were all out and this little cooking lesson was beginning to look quite promising indeed. "Now then, it's time to add the vegetables."

Kaoru leaned backwards against his chest; clever woman, she was ever quick to understand his intentions. "... We could just leave the stock to simmer."

"Do you think so?" His voice was innocent but the way he was caressing her waist was not.

"That- that makes it taste better, doesn't it? Simmering?"

Kenshin only turned her around, circling his arms around her shoulders and pulling her close and - she always kissed him so sweetly, her mouth warm and soft. After all this time, kissing her was like breathing, effortless and necessary, and his mouth moved against hers with skill born from long practice. He kept the kiss slow and long and gentle: they had all afternoon. Her hands slipped into his hair and he hummed appreciatively, stroking gentle fingers down her neck, his other hand creeping lower, from waist to bottom. He kneaded that firm flesh appreciatively; his wife was a wonderfully desirable woman. She oh-so-gently bit at his lower lip and the entire rest of the world was lost as his head filled with a pleasant buzzing. Something began to niggle at the back of his mind, but he ignored it in favor of happy plans. _All afternoon…_ Kaoru's small warm hands slipped under his collar, and her calluses were a pleasant, slightly rough texture as she stroked over his skin. Kenshin pulled her as close as possible, and he moaned at the feeling, all of those lovely curves pressing against him in the best way possible -

 _Kenji!_

Kenshin released his wife aruptly,, and she stumbled a little **.** Rather desperately, he vaulted the counter, placing himself from the waist down behind a blessedly opaque shield. Kaoru was still bewildered and off balance but he didn't have the time to warn her before their son burst into the kitchen.

"Mom! You've got to see the fish… that… I…" It was a ludicrous tableau; Kenshin standing behind a counter, his collar askew and hair mussed; Kaoru standing on the other side of the counter, clothing wrinkled, mouth swollen and breathing hard; and Kenji, eyes bugged out, holding a nice-sized fish in one hand. Everyone stared at each other. Kenshin resisted the urge to slap a hand over his face.

Kaoru cleared her throat. "That's a very nice fish, Kenji." Their son said nothing, looking from one of his parents to the other, back and forth, intelligent eyes taking in all of the damning details.

And then he smiled. "Thanks. It _is_ a nice fish. I'll just go now." Then he laid the fish on the counter and walked out of the room, closing the shoji behind him. Kaoru looked over at him with wondering eyes and Kenshin could only shake his head. _What was that?_

 _._

 _._

 _._

They ate the fish for dinner that night, the youngest children all laughing and talking with their usual rowdy noise, Eiji watching with happy violet eyes in his usual quiet way, and Kenji - Kenji looked _happy._ It had been a while since his eldest son had looked so pleased; adolescence had taken the boy's naturally serious nature and pasted a semi-permanent pouty scowl on his face. After dinner it was bedtime, stories and songs and last cups of water. The eldest two boys helped with the little ones and afterwards Eiji excused himself politely, retreating to his room with the omnipresent book. Kenji made to follow but Kenshin stepped forward.

"Kenji, may this one speak with you, please?" His son quirked a brow but followed him to the porch, and the boy neither complained for grumbled, an oddity in itself for these last two years. The porch was dark and private and Kenshin stood quietly while Kenji slouched against a pillar.

"... Do you have any questions for this one?"

"No," the boy shrugged and Kenshin resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall.

He cleared his throat. "About this afternoon, Kenji -"

"It's fine," Kenji interrupted, and smiled. "I _get_ it, Dad. I talked to Eiji the other day."

"Oro?" _What on earth did Eiji have to do with anything?_

"That trick with the counter was smart, though." And Kenji went back inside, leaving a dumbstruck Kenshin in his wake.


	59. Voice

Prompt: Chatter

Setting: After Kyoto arc

RK FANDOM PSA AT THE THE END OF THE CHAPTER!

Thanks for reading!

* * *

Kenshin's world had often been quiet. For ten years, he had walked the whole of Japan, and had seen wondrous things: mountains and oceans and skies that took his breath away. He'd seen temples and bridges and some of the most amazing creations of men. He'd been places where the land met the sky in an uninterrupted line in every direction, until it had felt as though he was the only man on Earth, just him and the land and the sky and the gods. There had been cities that were loud, and short stays with friendly people, but only briefly. For ten years, Kenshin was alone.

Kaoru liked to talk. She talked about her day, and her clothes, and food, and the sunset. She chattered about the tea that they drank and her plans for the next day. She challenged him to games and she preferred to read poetry aloud. Sometimes, all of the noise would drive Kenshin into the yard to do chores, or onto the roof to watch the stars. More often, though, Kaoru's voice was like music: a happy sound, like the little birds nesting in the birch tree in the yard. He listened, he always listened, but she rarely required an answer. It was perfect.

She said his name more in the first few days of their meeting then it had been said in a decade, and it sounded sweet from her mouth. In a puzzling way, it made his mind and muscles relaxed, easing a tension that he hadn't known existed. He would sit in the evening and listen to her read, just savoring the _sound_ as her voice washed over him in warm and comforting waves.

As time passed, he noticed that he had more to say. His thoughts could form into words again without conscious effort, until finally he had to start guarding his tongue. Some thoughts were not allowed past his lips. _You're beautiful_ stayed behind his teeth. So did _I never want to leave, sit with me, touch me, I love you_.

Someday, maybe he'd say them all. If fate was very kind, then maybe soon… Maybe soon he'd be able to say them all, and then it would be _he_ that chattered to _her._

* * *

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.

Hello, Beautiful RK fandom on FFnet. **RK week is going to kick off on May 14th and run until May 20th!**

We're planning: the 10 best anime eps marathon stream, half on Saturday and on Sunday)Tarazuka stream (hopefully), We're going to go for all 3 live action streamed, Crack fic challenges, funny manga edits, a caption challenge, Trivia game with prizes, card giftings, Round robins, Fic exchange, mood boards, and more.

Also, for the first time in YEARS, we're going to have

 **RK fanfic awards!** Here's the link:  broomclosetkinkDOTpolldaddyDOTcom/s/2017-rurouni-kenshin-fanfic-awards

This is all happening on Tumblr. So, how to see it all happen/participate?

If you're on tumblr, my user name is MysteriouslySaltyTradegy, you can follow me, or just follow #RK party

If you're not on Tumblr you can create an account, no need to get fancy if you're just there to soak up the fun, and follow me there.

Lots of great authors and RK communities on Tumblr, it's a lot of fun. Hope to see you there!


	60. Jealousy

My most common fic request is for a jealous!Kenshin.

I can't write it, not the way I think that people mean it, anyway. If a nice young man, with a good family, with a clean past expressed interest and Kaoru was _honestly_ also interested... He'd be beyond heartbroken, but he'd step aside if it would make Kaoru happy. Kenshin would pack his stuff and be gone faster than you could say "rurouni."

Setting: Ambiguous.

* * *

"C'mon, Kenshin, they'll only have wilted vegetables left if we don't hurry!" And off she went, her dark hair trailing the smell of flowers. He kept an eye on her, smiling as she wove ahead of him, her elaborately tied yellow obi making her easy to track down the street. There was no danger here today, just a bright, warm morning, just another wonderfully routine trip. The usual sounds and smells of the market were a pleasant backdrop for admiring his companion, and Kenshin was full of contentment as he followed her at a more sedate pace. _A normal life…_

She was standing with her back to him, and it took a moment for him to realize that the man in the booth was _not_ their greengrocer. Kenshin stopped his customary three-quarters of a step away from Kaoru and formed his expression into one of gentle inquiry.

"Oh!" Kaoru turned partway towards him, angling the the three of them into a triangle. "Kenshin, Tamura Hiroto-san isn't feeling well. This is his grandson, Tamura Tarou-san. This is Himura Kenshin." She was gripping that radish to her chest quite tightly. Kenshin raised his eyebrows, turning back to the man behind the counter.

"It's nice to meet you, Tamura-dono." He was young, perhaps only two or three years older than Kaoru.

"You too, of course, Himura-san." The other man bowed politely. The man was blushing a little, and Kenshin felt something tense and uncomfortable crawl through his stomach. He watched while Kaoru bargained for what they needed. He watched while the man smiled easily at her, he watched him brush Kaoru's hand as he passed her items and change. He watched the other man compliment her, respectfully, but boldy, as if Kenshin were not even there. He watched Kaoru as she avoided the man's eyes. He watched as she began to blush, and his tension grew into a sort of breathless pain.

Kaoru chattered on the walk home, her voice a little too high and her words fast. Kenshin smiled for her like he always did, but if someone had asked him what she had said, he wouldn't have been able to answer. The rest of the day passed like countless others before it, and Kenshin kept himself carefully blank. _Later. There will be time to think about it, later._

 _._

 _._

 _._

Now, it was later. The evening was calm and quiet, the night insects just starting to sing. The nights were warm now, and Kenshin was quite comfortable, sitting there on the porch. He sat, his energy and the outside of his skin both as calm and placid as the surface of a pond, a careful lie worn with the ease of long practice.

 _She was blushing_ …She had been blushing, and it hadn't been embarrassment. Kaoru's embarrassment was loud and brash, or sometimes painful, with reddened nose and ears, but this hadn't been either of those. No. A handsome young man, a man her age, with a good family, without any shadows, had flirted with her in the market, and Kaoru had blushed and stammered like any young woman would have done. Kaoru deserved a young man like that.

His feelings of selfish hurt were his own problem.

"Yo!" Kenshin barely started as he looked up at Sano, and then tucked away his melancholy, smoothed out his thoughts, and mentally checked his expression for cracks. Sano could be frustratingly perceptive. The taller man dropped down into an untidy sprawl on the sun-warmed planks. The silence stretched for several minutes, and Kenshin kept silent. It was obvious that the other man wanted to say something.

"Tae said that she saw you an' Jou-chan at the market this today." Kenshin flicked him a glance and chose not to comment. The taller man shifted, moving to sit against a pillar. He chewed his fishbone, his dark eyes shrewd. _People do not give him enough credit…_ Sano shoved a hand through his spiky hair. "Don't be an idiot, Kenshin."

"…Oro?"

"Jou-chan could snap that guy in half without breaking a sweat. She'd never be happy with a punk like that,so don't go thinking a bunch of stupid shit." Wisdom imparted, he stood and ambled into the house.

Alone again on the porch, Kenshin huffed out a breath that was nearly a laugh at his own expense. He took a deep breath in through his nose, and the tension in his shoulders and stomach faded away.


	61. Anchor

This was written for RK week 2017's Crack fic challenge. I was give "KenKao, brooding and kiss" and I _tried._ I tried SO HARD to make this a crack fic and failed. I wrote half of a story that I didn't like and then just gave in, deleted it all, and wrote this instead.

BTW. **The last chapter, Jealousy, was nominated for the RK 2017 Fanfic awards, Characterization: Kenshin category.** If you would like to vote for that or any story, this is the poll (forgive the way that it's posted here, FFnet forbids the posting of links)

haganehimura . polldaddyDOTcom/ s / rurouni-kenshin-fanfiction-awards-survey

Voting is closing on the night of 05/20/17, so if you want to vote, shake a leg! ;)

* * *

Setting: a few months after marriage.

Kenshin shifted slightly, scooting away from an uneven tile that had been pressing into his tailbone. _I must repair the roof sometime this week._ He looked upward. The night sky was... not at all lovely tonight, actually. The overcast gloom and uncomfortable dampness fit his mood. Chased from his bed by dreams of other nights, nights full of shadows and pain and death, he was... angry, and frustrated, which was new. He had always accepted the nightmares as his due, allowing the spirits their revenge, but since his marriage – since his marriage, he had come to resent the dreams. He _should_ be sleeping right now, wrapped around a warm and sweetly-scented wife. Instead, he was sitting alone on a damp roof, gazing at a cloudy sky.

Kaoru's _ki_ was stirring and he grimaced; his absence had woken her. He stayed where he was; she would come to him or she wouldn't, but she knew where he was, where he always was when he slipped out of their bed at night. It was only a few minutes before the sounds of her climbing onto the roof reached him. Even the weak, murky moonlight was kind to Kaoru, making her hair shine and her skin glow. She had remembered to wear a jacket, he noted with approval; it was chilly out. She settled quietly, far enough away to give him space but near enough to touch.

They were quiet for a time before she finally spoke. "Bad dreams?"

"Aa."

She nodded, and was silent again but he didn't speak. The nightmares were just nebulous things, vague impressions of horror and pain and the feeling of oneself eroding away. She was samurai, or had been, and her father had been a solider and police officer, so really, she already knew. There was nothing to say.

She sighed softly and shifted closer, her hand warm against his shoulder. "Come to bed, Kenshin."

"Thank you but no, Kaoru. This one is fine here, so I am."

"Silly man, of course you're fine - but you don't belong up here." She scooted so close that he could feel the warmth of her body. "You belong with me." Her pupils were dilated and he could no longer remember why he was on a roof instead of in this woman's bed. She didn't close her eyes as leaned closer, and he watched her eyes as though mesmerized as she crossed those inches, pausing a finger's width away from his mouth. She stopped there and shared his breath for the smallest of moments before she finally, _finally,_ closed the distance.

Her lips were infinitely soft, just slightly chapped, and completely perfect. All there was, was Kaoru, just a perfect mouth and the scent of flowers, and he was dizzy with her. Her hair was like cool silk in his hand, and her neck was smooth and slender under his fingertips. The weight and curves of her pressed against his chest were an irrestible lure and he pulled her tight against him, a warm and wonderful anchor.

"Kenshin," his name said in that tone made his belly tense. "Come to bed."

"Aa."


	62. Brown

Like so many in the RK fandom, I'm very, very saddened by Watsuki's actions.

But Kenshin is still Kenshin. I have read every word of these stories, over and over, and it hasn't changed because I learned something so terrible about the author. Whatever he's done, that man wrote a story that has inspired bravery and kindness in millions. Whatever Watsuki has done, Kenshin is still a beautiful character.

.

.

.

Shinta lay still in his bedroll, shivering and nauseous, and listened to the men talk. There were three of them, the slavers, shabby and underfed. They talked at night, after they thought that he and the girls were asleep - and sometimes before, uncaring that their cruel words made the girls cry.

Tonight, they talked about him. "We should take him to Fukunaka. He's always treated us fair."

"But _look_ at him! That kid is destined for the stage. Fukunaka can't give us what he's worth."

There was a long pause, and Shinta could guess that the two were looking toward their leader for a decision. "It's true. That kid is made for more than Fukunaka. That freak is going to bring us a fortune."

Shinta squeezed his eyes more tightly shut; he would _not_ cry.

.

.

.

It rained the next day. They made poor progress; traveling down the mountains was dangerous

during the spring rains, simply begging for injury and illness. When it was still raining after noon, they sent Shinta to gather wood. When he was gone too long, Ayame was sent to find him. He knew it was her, before she arrived, because her shackles had a distinct sound.

"Shinta! There you are, I was looking for… what did you do to yourself?" He glanced back at the lovely mud puddle next to him, but didn't answer her. It was obvious what he'd done. Ayame crouched near him."Why did you do this?

"I'm not what they're saying I am."

Ayame's eyes were sad, and she touched his shoulder, and her hands were nearly as gentle as his mother's had been. "Shinta, no one can make you something that you're not." His gaze was disbelieving. "We won't become _less_ just because they want us to be less. You are good."

She touched his chest, over his heart. " _You are good._ The evil actions of men cannot make you anything other than what you are, Shinta, and _you_ are _good._ "

He was _not crying_ , it was the rain.

"Now, let's wash the mud out of your hair. Brown doesn't suit you."


	63. Quiet

After so long of not creating, I'm so rusty, guys. it'll get better again, I just need practice :)

Setting is obvious.

Quiet

Kaoru noticed right away that Kenshin was _quiet._ He was quiet in everything. His voice was even a pleasant hum, and he rarely spoke without being spoken to. His movements were effiecent while he worked and silent too; you wouldn't know that he was in the kitchen if it weren't for the food bubbling away on the stove. How did a man silently chop vegetables?

Kaoru worried that he hated noise. She knew that he'd been raised in the country, that he'd traveled alone, and perhaps she bothered him with her loud nature?

After they were married, once he was hers and couldn't take it back, she grew bold enough to ask one night after they were tucked into bed, covers warm and snug against the winter cold, her own voice quiet in the dark.

He'd laughed.

"No," he said and she waited, but that was all, so she prodded him, gently pinching the skin above his hip.

" _Ken_ shin..."

He yielded, framing her face with his calloused hands, hard as horn and gentle as silk. "Your voice reminds this one that he is no longer alone, Kaoru. Your voice reminds this one always that he is home, so it does."

Kaoru strained her eyes, but couldn't see his face clearly in the dark of their room. "Then I'll keep talking, that I will." And he laughed again, his husky, real laugh and it pulled her own lips in a smile.


	64. Tranquility

I'm rusty after my long hiatus, friends, and so am going to try to write 7 drabbles in 7 days. They'll be short and sweet. This was written for the itty bitty drabble challenge on Tumblr.

Prompt: Desire

Setting: Tokyo arc.

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Kenshin drew in a deep breath and held it a moment as he stretched his tight back. He smiled down at the washing tub and the bubbles within, enjoying the scent of soap overlaying the flowers and green growing things of the yard. The shadows were disappearing from the fence and it was time to rinse the rice for lunch.

Preparing meals was a dance that he appreciate more each day, sauce bubbling and rice boiling. He smiled down at the vegetables as he sliced. His days at the dojo felt like a dream sometimes, an intermission and an ending all in one.

He had known peace in the last ten years, in small, stolen moments. There had been three days of peace while repairing the roof of an inn, peace in the hard work and sunshine and good food with which he'd been paid. He'd found peace once in helping with the rice harvest, bent double with an aching back and laughing with the other men.

But here. Here at teh Kamiya dojo it was different; it was crisp days and polishing wax, it was his housemates' bickering and smooth, sweet tea. Here peace was offered with smiling lips and open hands.

"Kaoru-dono," he called, "lunch is ready, that it is."


	65. Family

Prompt: Dancing

Series: Itty Bitty drabble challenge.

Setting: Newlyweds.

Every culture has their own holiday traditions, but one of the Japanese traditions is a particular way of greeting family on New Year's morning. It's probably a phrase that Tomoe said to Kenshin once, long ago, and certainly nothing he's heard since then...

* * *

He carefully washed the sticky rice paste from his fingers and surveyed the finished mochi with pleasure. One more task of the New Year accomplished. It had been hectic the last weeks, preparing the house, making the decorations and attending more than one party. It shouldn't have suprised him to have reiceved so many invitations this year; he was respectable now. It was a funny thing, to be respectable. No longer a drifter, he was now a husband, married into a good family, a family with deep roots in this part of Tokyo.

Kenshin smiled down at his hands.

"Kenshin?" And there was his new wife, sleep touseld and bundled against the cold, blinking sleepily in the predawn light of the kitchen.

"Ah, good-"

"No!" Kaoru yelped.

"Oro!" He flinched reflexively, raising his hands in self defense, but Kaoru grinned.

Composing her face to solemnity, she knelt on the floor and bowed deeply. Kenshin his mouth hang open but seemed unable to close it.

" _Akemashite omedetō gozaimasu,_ " she said, and Kenshin sucked a breath through his teeth.

"Kaoru-dono," he, too, knelt and returned her bow, " _Akemashite omedetō gozaimasu."_ His throat burned.

This was right.

 _I have a family now..._


	66. Shadows

Written for my tumblr itty bitty drabble challenge. Written because it's pride month, and hating love is a terrible thing.

Prompt: Ginger

Setting: Post marriage

The ribbon in her hands was beautiful, and far too expensive. Kaoru replaced it in the merchant's display.

"Now, that was a fine ribbon, ma'am, and it would look good in your hair."

"No, thank you." She moved on, but the whispers, and the women making them, followed her to the next booth. Kaoru tilted her head and firmed her chin. These women meant nothing to her. She adjusted the strap of her baby-carrier.

" _Well, he's obviously a foreigner's baby…"_

" _Can you imagine? I would never…"_

" _The_ shame…"

Kenji was a _beautiful_ baby, and she loved his red hair, just as she loved his father's red hair. It was a lovely, exotic quality. She took great pride in her husband and son. And they were unequivocally Japanese.

" _What must her family…"_

" _Maybe she was sold."_

" _No! To foreigners?"_

Kaoru's right eye began to twitch.

" _I would kill myself first."_

" _They have no manners….eat with_ knives…"

" _... so hairy…"_

 _That's it!_ Kaoru spun on her heel and faced her unkind shadows. There were three of them, and they were all three maidens only a few years her junior, standing in front of the ribbon merchant. They startled like birds and immediately pretended to be shopping instead of staring and whispering.

Kaoru pushed her sleeves back and marched towards them. "Now listen, you -"

The merchant began to sweat. "Ladies, might I interest you in something blue?" His voice was squeaky.

" - three _gossips,"_ Kaoru continued, "my husband is Japanese, and so is my son. Even if he wasn't, it's not _your_ business, is it?

"Oh, we weren't -" the first said.

"I don't know what you're -" the second tried.

The third woman seemed to be attempting to hide while standing still.

"You were, and you do and it's _cruel_ and _none of your business."_ Kaoru knew that she was shouting now, and couldn't have cared less. "My marriage is honorable, my son is the _light of my life, and you can take your hate and go home."_

The women stammered and stumbled and left as quickly as possible.

After a moment of silence, the merchant began to chuckle.

"Ma'am, here, take this please." Kaoru was surprised to see the man offering her the ribbon she had just admired.

"...What?"

The man's smile was broad. "My wife is dutch."


	67. Pieces

Setting: The first spring after marriage

Rating: hard T. The smutty version is a oneshot "Putting the pieces together"

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"I'll go get food, then, it's just ohagi, I made it last night." Kaoru bounced out of the room, and the click of the shoji closing was barely audible over the roaring in Kenshin's head, his fingers and lips still tingling.

 _This isn't normal._ It wasn't that be objected to Kaoru's treatment of him, oh no, a man would have to be insane to object to this, but something was wrong. He raked a hand through his hair and tried to think. She was more than ravenous, her actions were nearly desperate. Perhaps if his heart wasn't still pounding his head would clear, and his tongue was nearly stuck to the roof of his mouth, anyway.

It took effort but he managed to sit up for a drink, and then flopped boneless back onto the futon. For a moment he lay still and listened to the tick of the clock, letting his eyes wander over their bedroom, until they came to rest on- _Oh -_ on the calendar. There staring back at him was his answer.

Yesterday was May 13th, which meant...which meant that this morning was May 14th. _Oh, Kaoru… Do you still…_ He reached for his robe.

He'd managed to compose himself somewhat by the time she returned with breakfast and hot tea. Her smile was bright, but brittle, and it hurt his heart to see it.

"Kaoru," he took the tray and set it aside. She raised her eyebrows and then grinned, leaning in to him and pulling at his collar.

"Long enough break?" He dodged before her mouth could crash down on his again.

"Kaoru, this one thinks that we should talk, that I do."

She firmed her chin. "Why talk?"

He carefully unpried her fingers from his clothes.

"Because this isn't what you want, that it isn't."

She settled back on her heels, but her expression was arch. "Yes, I really do, Kenshin."

Oh, this was difficult. It would be easier if she was wearing any sort of clothing, instead of bare and still flushed, but he was determined. He silently pulled her close, careful to close his arms around her in a way that was chaste.

"This one will never leave you again, Kaoru. That I won't."

She was silent for a time, and then began to tremor. He held her and let her cry, warm tears sliding over his throat, until the tea had cooled. "I'm sorry, Kenshin, you must think I'm so foolish-"

"No, Kaoru, never foolish." Her hair was silky under his cheek. "Just hurt, so you are, and that is all this one's fault." She sniffled, and her eyes shone in the predawn dark of their room. This time, her kiss tasted of salt and pain and healing, her mouth soft and yielding. This time when she tugged at his clothes he let her, and allowed his body to apologize.


	68. Guard

A sappy little thing, probably terrible, written because my dog died today and I need to write.

Setting: ? Up to you!

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Himura Kenshin was beautiful, always, but even more so in moments like this one, when his face was calm and his breathing even. Kaoru smiled. _Tired out today, eh?_ He'd repaired the roof this morning, in addition to all of his regular chores and now he slept with his head in her lap, laying on the hard planks of the porch, as the early summer shadows stretched long around them and night insects sang. It was so rare that he slept like this, and nearly never in the open, even behind the closed gates of their home.

Kaoru stroked gentle fingers through his hair and continued the massage of his scalp that had caused him to drift off in the first place. His flame-bright hair flowed over her fingers, silky after months of her careful attention. He looked younger when he slept, closer to her own age than his nearly thirty years. The cares and worries and the constant need to protect slumbered with him, his face peaceful with true relaxation. She knew how much he tried to hide, how much he thought he concealed even from her.

She had lost feeling in her feet nearly twenty minutes ago, but refused to shift and risk waking him. She would guard his slumber tonight, and for the rest of their lives.

"Sleep well, Kenshin."


	69. okaerinasai

Because Kenshin is a great dad. Happy Father's day! :)

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Kaoru sat propped against cushions, her body curved around the bundle in her arms.

He'd insisted on staying this time, had refused to leave the room as was proper while his wife labored. He'd nearly lost her in childbirth with Kenji while he sat in another room. This time it would have taken an army to force him from her side.

Kaoru had been brave, had never faltered, although she had to have been afraid after her first experience. And now, it was dark, Kenji was asleep, and Kenshin was watching his wife nurse his youngest son. It had been three years since he's seen her nurse a baby, he realized. She always sang while she nursed, always the same cradle song, the one that her mother had sang to her.

"Kenshin?" He blinked away his reverie. "I have to go," she nodded her head towards the outside wall, and the outhose that lay beyond it.

"This one will go with you," he said and he shot to his feet.

Kaoru's expression was wry. "I think I can do this on my own"

"This once meant that he would _walk_ with-"

"Kenshin," she interrupted, "I'm _fine_. Dr. Gensai said it, Megumi said it, it's just the outhouse, I'll be right back." She looked into his eyes, and what she saw there caused her face to soften. "I'm fine, Tou-chan." She carefully gave him the baby and slipped out of the room.

He stood for moment, residual anxiety still twisting in his chest, until the baby - his son - yawned. A simple thing, a normal thing, a sleepy newborn baby, but it drew Kenshin's attention to the baby's face.

He had Kaoru's hair, and a surprising amount of it, a thick dark tuft on his small head, but the shape of his face was that of his father. Kenshin stroked a finger over the baby's cheek and marveled over the softness. The baby's skin was petal soft, like a living flower. His son blinked open blue eyes, just like his mother's, and Kenshin knew that the smile on his face was besotted.

"Welcome home," he whispered


	70. Patience

Setting: shortly before marriage.

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The little chalk pencil, held in Kaoru's small hands, marked lines against Kenshin's right shoulder. She frowned, adjusted the lay of the fabric, and then moved to his left side. They had bought the new deep blue kimono nearly two weeks ago, and this was the first chance they'd had to fit it. The house had hosted an incessant parade of company, all eager to be a part of the wedding, and Kenshin's wedding clothes were at a minimum still two sizes too large. Nearly all of his clothes had to be cut down, and this was nothing new.

Having an empty house for a fitting was new.

Being fitted for his clothes at night was new.

Standing painfully still while his _fiancee_ stroked her hands over his arms and chest was definately new.

Kaoru's hair was falling out of its braid a little, sticking to her cheeks, damp from her bath. She kept glacing at him through her bangs, but whatever she saw there made her keep her eyes downcast. Kenshin tried to hold still, be silent, and not look at her lovely neck. He tried to ignore the touch of her hands. He tried not to notice when she licked nervous lips.

He was sweating.

"Hold still," she murmured, and her pale hands, so very gentle tonight, burned a path down his chest, over his heart, and to his waist, retucking the kimono's folds and beginning to draw a new line. The backs of her fingers brushed the naked skin of his collarbone on accident and Kenshin began trying a meditation exercise in desperation.

 _Cool water. Icy streams._ Yea, gods, would it ever be over? Couldn't she step away? Why had they ever thought that this was a good idea? He could smell her, she was so close. Soap and flowers and something else that was just _Kaoru_.

He began to breathe through his mouth. That was a mistake, for now he could almost _taste_ concept of tasting Kaoru had his mind spinning dizzily down dangerous paths, and his body responded eagerly to the imagery.

 _I am a swordsmaster, for pity's sake, where is my discipline?_ But he had kissed her two weeks ago, a sweet and chaste thing, and it had shifted something, something important. It was no longer a fantasy, and there was no longer any wondering about her response.

She wasn't afraid, she wanted him to kiss her, and she was a fast learner.

He took a slow breath through his nose and raised his eyes to the wall. _That waterfall near his master's home…_

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Guys, I _wanted_ him to kiss her, but it's Kenshin, and getting him to do something as gray laying a big one on Kaoru before marriage - he's very uncooperative sometimes!


	71. Obligations

I have this headcanon that Kenshin loved being an apothecary. The art of growing things, and making items that heal people is a lovely and soothing thing for him, I would think. And he was apparently very good at it.

Kenshin is a great house-husband and I don't see him with a full time job, but I do see him as wanting to contribute financially, especially in this era. That gave birth to this idea, of him wanting to do this before proposing marriage to Kaoru.

Setting: Post Jinchuu, pre engagement.

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Kaoru tied her ribbon and smiled offered her best smile to her reflection. The shadows under her eyes were barely noticeable, but Kenshin would see them. She huffed a sigh and stood. It would have to do. She walked as silently as possible down the hall, all but creeping towards Kenshin's bedroom. She pressed her ear to the screen and listened, but heard nothing. Carefully, she crakced upon the door and peered through the predawn gloom.

His futon was folded away and he was already gone. _Blasted man!_ She clicked the screen shut. _Doesn't he know how to rest?_ She knew where he'd be at this hour, the only place to find him. She charged down the hall toward the kitchen.

He was standing with his back to her, dressed for the day in blue - oh, she loved Kenshin in blue - with his sleeves tied back, a steaming cup of tea on the table next to him as he worked. She stopped abruptly and stood still for a moment, choosing her attack. Kenshin reached to his left for something, and his wince was nearly invisible. Kaoru softened.

"Kenshin? You should be resting," she walked towards him. "I can make… Kenshin?"

He smiled over at her, that gentle Rurouni smile, and kept working. "Good morning, Kaoru-dono."

"Good morning," she mumbled, staring down at the mess he'd made of the table. _Plants,_ was all she could think. More than a dozen pots of dirt littered her table, and Kenshin was busily filling another. In Autumn. _What on earth?_ She raised her eyes to him, and let him see her confusion.

"This one is just doing some planting, that I am."

"I see that… Kenshin… it's getting cold out." Was he alright? _Oh!_ She quickly raised her hand and felt his forehead. _An infection?_ "I'll call Megumi!" She blurted.

Kenshin merely smiled and shook his head. "This one is not fevered, Kaoru-dono. These will grow fine in the kitchen, that they will."

"But-"

"Tea?" He said, thrusting a cup under her nose.

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Megumi pursed her perfect mouth into a well-practice _mou. "_ And that's all? He's just growing plants?"

"Mm," Kaoru nodded. "Dozens of them, in front of nearly every window. He guards them like you wouldn't believe."

Megumi frowned. "Well, that's harmless enough."

"But dozens of them? In Autumn? Megumi, do you think he's, uh… _rattled?"_

"Ken-san? No."

"But. But, _plants."_

"He's not hurting himself, Kaoru-chan. Let him have his plants. And my cup is empty."

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It was more than a week later when Kaoru caught Kenshin talking to the seedlings that she snapped. "Kenshin!"

He startled and nearly jumped. "Oro?"

"You were _talking_ to that plant!"

The tips of his ears turned red. "Er… yes. My mother always said that they grow better when one talks to them."

Kaoru blinked and filed away that precious peice of information for later. "Kenshin, they are just plants." She felt nearly desperate.

Kenshin shook his head. "No," and he turned to fully face her, "no, they are more than just plants, that they are."

She spread her arms wide. "Why?"

"They are herbs."

"What?"

"Herbs. This one- this one was an apothecary, that he was."

She looked at the little pots, with their flourishing plants. "But… but why now?"

"Because," his cheeks were pink now too, "because a man should be able to support his wife, that he should."


	72. Echos of My Father's Voice

Setting: Tokyo Arc

It's called Echos, because I think that Kaoru is guided heavily by her father's beliefs and teachings. And I can see her judging a man's worth by those criteria.

It's a weird one!

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"White! White!" The girls shouted, running in circles around the wash basin, while Kenshin chuckled, his smooth tenor clear and sweet. "White," he agreed and snapped the sheet, smiling when the children squealed again.

He worked hard each day, all the while carrying two small girls under his arm, or on his back, or just stepping carefully around them while they frisked like puppies. The piled bubbles in his hair and he never showed ill-temper. The made a mess in the kitchen and he'd simply smile and show them how to properly clean.

 _It takes strength to play with a child_

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"Mother, can this one be of assistance?" Kenshin asked a woman, perhaps the oldest woman that Kaoru had ever seen, wrinkled and hunched, and struggling with a load of groceries that would have bowed a strong man. Kenshin smiled, and the woman blossomed like a flower in the sun.

"Thanks, sonny!" And she unceremoniously dumped her items into Kenshin's arms. Kaoru raised a hand to hide her smile as the small man reeled comically. The old woman chattered at them, all the way to her home, the opposite direction from the dojo, and Kenshin hummed and nodded and tottered under the weight and Kaoru smiled, never stopped smiling, and never complained about the detour.

 _Life is to be useful, to be honorable, to be compassionate._

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Facing Hannya, bleeding, Kenshin stood straight as an arrow, and utterly still. His face was even, despite his angry eyes. He raised his sword into that defensive position, and some people would have assumed that he was frightened.

Kaoru knew better.

And he proved her right.

 _Courage, above all things._

A gentle man, with the spirit of a warrior such that she'd never seen before. The small flame in her chest caught, and blazed, and she _knew._ This man. Kenshin.

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Thank you, Kaoruca, as a reivewer. I am basically writing for myself, You, and three other people. Being a writer is odd. You just... fling creativity into the darkness. I've heard from a few of my writer friends, too, and People, PLEASE REVIEW FICS, not just mine, but _everyone's._ _Please feed the animals._

Our fandom is sooo diminished right now, folks. Please help revitalize it by participating, not just consuming.

Fomat for a review: "Your words good." That's all it takes. OR "Thank you for writing." "Good fic." "AHFGAHUSIGFU" is also acceptable.


	73. Between

Setting: Tokyo, right before Kyoto

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Kenshin turned the teacup in his palm, enjoying the heat of the pottery against the cool of the night. he tilted his head and listened to the approaching footsteps.

"Is Yahiko asleep then, Kaoru-dono?" The woman hummed an affirmative and folded into a seated position on the porch in the peculiar way that she had, folding downward to sit in her restrictive kimono, with her back ramrod straight in the way of a kendo master. It was a rather lovely movement, really.

"Snoring away," she said. She placed a tray between them, and Kenshin happily selected a sweet cake, and then another, watching the cherry blossoms fall from the tree by the west fence, lit by moonlight. The silenced stretched comfortably, heavy with cool air, hot tea, sweet cakes and Kaoru by moonlight.

Kenshin couldn't quite stop the smile curling his lips.

"Without regret  
they fall and scatter…  
cherry blossoms."

Kenshin blinked. "Basho?"

"Yes," she smiled. "It's one of my favorites. It makes them seem happy."

Her eyes were suddenly very blue, and Kenshin couldn't remember a single cherry blossom viewing poem that he'd ever read. She didn't seem to mind though, watching the flowers fall and smiling. Moonlight on Kaoru's skin was an unfair thing.

The sat thus for an hour.

It was only after Kenshin was laying in bed that he remembered - he never had offered her a poem in return. "Damn it."


	74. Differences

Written because _what if_ , and how would Kaoru deal with _this?_

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He had company in the kitchen, again. Kenshin pretended ignorance of the small spirit on the other side of the door, continuing to slice. His youngest child would make herself known when she wished.

"Daddy?" _Ah, so patience was rewarded._

"Yes, Hitomi-chan?" She edged around the door, shyness in the lines of her body.

"Daddy, can I help?"

He put down his knife and knelt, bringing himself to eye level with his seven-year-old daughter.

"Aren't you supposed to be training with Yahiko?"

Hitomi had the grace to blush, sliding her gaze down and to the side as she twisted her fingers in the sleeves of her training gi. "You're making mochi," she whispered.

Ah, yes, Hitomi didn't know how to make mochi yet. "Hitomi-chan, you must take your training seriously, that you must."

Her eyes, those startling blue jasmine eyes, begin to fill with tears. "But, Daddy…"

Kenshin stroked a gentle hand over her head. "This one will wait to make the mochi until you are finished with your bath, so I shall."

"…Yes, Daddy."

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Later that night, Kenshin sat in the middle of his bed and watched his wife brush her lovely hair.

"Yahiko said that Hitomi-chan snuck away from training again." Kenshin hummed an acknowledgment, for what else was there to say? Kaoru lowered her brush to the dresser and began to braid those dark strands. "Kenshin am I wrong?"

He blinked. "Wrong?"

"To insist that she trains. She sneaks away more that she goes, and then she wouldn't even look at me at dinner." Kaoru's eyes shone brightly.

He shook his head. "She is only ever afraid of displeasing you." He chose his next words carefully, "Hitomi-chan is on a very different path than that of her warrior mother."

"What do I do, Kenshin?" Her voice was raw, and it hurt his heart. "What do I do with a girl that wishes to be a traditional good wife and wise mother?"

"You love her, Kaoru." He pulled her close, tucking her head under his chin, "and everything will be alright, that it will."


	75. Reminder

_Megumi should watch herself._ _If she calls him "Ken-san" one more time, I'll -_ Kaoru's grip tightened on her teacup.

"No, no, Ken-san," Kaoru suppressed a growl, "I'll get it, you must be _so tired_ after last night," _That's right, Fox, tired from being up all night with_ me, "I'll get it." Then the lovely other woman released the rurouni's arm, stood with grace that Kaoru deeply envied and excused herself to the kitchen.

One day. Kaoru had been a married woman for _one day_ , was still sore in places she'd never before been sore, and Megumi was _flirting with her husband._ Kaoru didn't hide the murder in her eyes when she swung her gaze to her newly minted husband.

"Oro?" Kenshin flinched and it gave her a bit of satisfaction.

"Oi, Busu, aren't married women supposed to be _mature?"_ The teacup in her hands was in danger of cracking and it was one that Kaoru liked. She sat it calmly on the table. She took a deep breath in through her nose. She shouted and lunged after Yahiko like a lunatic. Kenshin yelped and steadied the table, and dinner, while she tried to brain her best student with a ladle. He ran, the squirt, and Kaoru gleefully gave chase.

 _Ow._ The sorenss between her thighs was a distraction, and her pretty pink matron's kimono was restrictive, but she nearly caught Yahiko by the shed. _Dammit._ The brat had wisely jumped the fence. _I'll just have to thump him tomorrow._

Target gone, Kaoru's rage simmered out and she was left standing in the dark alone. In her pretty pink matron's dress, the first that she'd ever worn. With her new husband alone in the house with a flirting fox. Kaoru pressed a hand over her eyes. _What a fool._

She startled when warm hands grasped her shoulders, but _Kenshin_ registered almost immediately, and she went willingly when he pulled. _His mouth is warm_ , was her only coherent thought and then it was just soft, warm lips and hard, warm man and a very nice pair of arms holding her very, very close.

 _Un_. No thoughts made it through her mind and she just stood and registered sensation. Kenshin's hand was in her hair and Kenshin's warm herb and male scent was in her nose, and now his tongue was in her mouth, and were those _teeth?_ Those were definately teeth. Kaoru's breathing accelerated and she leaned into him, wove her own fingers into that silky bright hair of his and held on for a kiss that was very different from anything that she'd ever received.

It was a revelation.

She was panting when Kenshin released her and noted with pleasure that he was, too, his pupils dilated and his lips swollen.

"Megumi-dono brought ohagi, that she did. Are you ready to go back inside?"

Kaoru smiled broadly, well aware that it was silly grin and not caring at all. "Yes."


	76. Comforting

THANK YOU, so much, everyone that's reviewed. I'm incredibly honored. :D

Written for a tumblr friend that requested Kenshin hurt/comfort

Setting: Pre-Jinchuu

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It was ridiculous, preposterous. The wound was only six centimeters long and Kenshin had only allowed it to be stitched because Kaoru had insisted. He woke up that morning to a hot, red, angry laceration.

His tiny, inconsquential wound was infected.

Which was why he now sat patiently in the doctor's office. "Ken-san, I'll have to remove the stitches straight away," Megumi said, her face concerned. He nodded. He honestly would have done it himself and avoided bothering anyone, but he was out of salve, and it needed tended. He'd had enough wounds to know the signs. The doctor's hands were swift and careful; he barely felt her delicately remove her work from yesterday. "This will have to heal open, and it being on your shoulder like this, you'll have to wear a sling." She put away her tools and brought out hot towels and a liquid disinfectant.

He definately _did_ feel it as she cleaned the angry flesh. "There," she said. "And you'll have to clean it three times a day. Take these herb packets, steep them in hot water, strain, and wash the wound. Avoid touching it as much as much you possible," her lovely face was concerned as she tied his sling.

Kenshin was careful to supress a grimace. A sling was a very obvious thing, there was no hiding it. "Thank you, Megumi-dono," he accepted the hebrs and bowed shallowly, he shoulder pulling and stinging as he did so.

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Kaoru was just as concerned as he had known that she would be, hovering and fussing. It was embarrasing to be the center of so much attention, and yet very nice all at once.

"I'll make dinner!" She unfolded herself from the porch amid Yahiko's outraged howls.

"This one will help, Kaoru-dono." Her face fell slightly. "It would be a pleasure," he said, his tone gentle and soothing, smiling as the shadows in her smile dissappeared. He followed her to the kitchen, carefully _not_ watching the gentle sway of generous hips in bright kimono.

It did turn out to be a pleasure, indeed, the dance of dinner preparations completed with a partner. He went to bed that night unusually pleased. If only it weren't so _hot_ tonight.

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It only got hotter. How could it get hotter at night? He was sweating, it was so hot. He blankets were a twisted mess, he yukata stuck to his skin. He would wash, he he decided. Cold well water sounded blissfull, but when he sat up, the world spun and lurched drunkenly.

 _Damn it._

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"Kenshin?" He was moaning, she was sure of it. "Kenshin?" Her hand hovered over the door to his room.

"No! No...To… No.."

"Kenshin?! Kenshin, I'm coming in," she opened the door and gasped. He was a sweating, tangled mess in his bed, cheeks flushed bright red.

"No, no, dont- stop!"

Kaoru was across the room before she even thought to move. "Shh, it's okay, Kenshin, I'm here." His forehead was buring hot. She needed medicine, and cool water, immediately. "I'll be right back."

He snatched her hand in a firm grip. "No. No!"

Her heart twisted. "It's okay, Kenshin," she smoothed his sweaty bangs, "I'll be right back, I promise." She pried her fingers loose and ran.

The well water was cool, and there were plenty of herbs for fever stocked in the kitchen. She made the tea with hast and hurried back to her rurouni.

It took an angonizing five minutes to pour the medicine down his throat. Then there was nothing to do but bathe his face and chest with cool water and try to keep him calm.

"Tom… No.."

"I'm here, Kenshin, I'm here.."

Blurry eyes blinked open at her, unfocused and unseeing. "Tomoe?"

It was a cold knife to the lungs.

"Yes," she said, firmly. "Yes, I'm right here-" she took a chance, " _anata."_

He smiled and she could have sobbed in relief. She'd guessed correctly. "Good," he mumbled. "Stay."

"Always," she whispered, and changed the rag for another, cooler one.


	77. Gifts

Written for a tumblr friend that requested a Kenji story.

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Kaoru laughed, soft and sweet, and Kenshin smiled at the picture they made, his wife and infant son. She was sitting on the blanket, her legs curled to the left, and her arm braced on the baby's other side as he lay on his back, small feet kicking excitedly as his mother ticked his face with her hair.

"Can you see the Triangle tonight, Kenshin?"

"Mm?" He cast his eyes up and searched for Orihime and Hikoboshi in the night sky. "Aa, it's there," he pointed.

Kaoru smiled up at the stars. "I'm glad that Tanabata was so clear this year. I hate it when it rains…"

And then Kenji hiccuped and his attention was pulled to the baby, wriggling hard to reach the end's of Kaoru's hair, now just barely out of reach. Kenshin reached for the little cloth doll that he'd twisted from rags long ago, it seemed, forever ago, in a time before his son was born. He brought to slowly towards his son's face and laughed quietly as the child writhed in excitement, his still-blue eyes crossing and his feet kicking wildly. The baby's chubby, dimpled hands grabbed at the toy and brought it to his mouth, chewing and drooling as Kenshin tugged the toy gently for a time; when the baby began to fuss, Kenshin changed him and handed to him his mother for a bedtime feeding.

His wife leaned against his chest and he was treated to a top-down view of his infant son's dinner. The baby's fuzzy red hair stuck up in all directions, and his hand was curled into a loose fist, resting on his mother's breast as his tiny mouth worked. Kaoru's voice vibrated into Kenshin's body as she sang softly to their baby.

It was enough to make him short of breath, his chest full to the brim of _something._ Never had he known peace such as this, and never had he imagined that it was even possible for a man like him, foolish dreams aside. This was _real_ and _now_ and _his_. His mind cast thanks to anything listening.

And so the silent stars wheeled overhead and watched as a red haired man held his heart in his arms, and the night insects sang along with a black haired woman, and a baby had his dinner, unaware that this was anything at all miraculous


	78. Brother

I really think that Kenshin was planning to make some moves when Jinchuu happened.

Setting: The night before Jinchuu/

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The sake had been sweet, sweet and light, and he'd had far too much, he realized. Yahiko was snoring on his pillow, sleeping soundly in the main room, and Kenshin smiled down at the boy, who would have never slept out in the open six months ago. He bent and covered the child with a blanket. The world spun a little as he stood up again.

" -a virgin." Kenshin blinked. _What?_

" _-_ fair, Missy." Kaoru's laugh floated inside from the porch. _That's right. I was looking for them._ Sano and Kaoru had never came back inside. How long had he been daydreaming, exactly? He walked toward the porch, placing his feet carefully, forgetting in his tipsy state to make any noise.

"Well, _I've_ never been in love." Kenshin froze, and tried to process what exactly Sano had just said. Kaoru's slowly took a sip of sake and Sano refilled her cup.

"I've never told him."

Sano snorted loudly. "Yeah, you have. You're not exactly subtle, there, Missy."

Kaoru tossed her dark hair. "That's not the rules."

"I've never… been a woman."

Kaoru laughed again, and shoved the taller man, who swayed good-naturedly. " _That's_ not the rules, either."

"I can't play this game with you, Missy, you haven't done anything!" _Oh!_ Kenshin knew this game. _OH._ Kaoru had drake that cup when Sano had said… Kenshin's chest warmed. But this was eavesdropping, and he was a little drunk, and he should really leave. He took a careful step backwards.

"It's not my fault!" Kaoru protested, "I _want_ to, but-"

Kenshin bit back the _Oro!_ that wanted to fly free.

Sano half turned to face her, and Kenshin could see his profile in the moonlight. He took another cautious step backwards.

"You shouldn't, Missy."

"Shouldn't _what?"_

"Do the things that I've done." Sano didn't seem nearly as drunk now as he had a moment ago. "You're not like me, Missy."

"You mean that I'm not a _man."_ She sounded bitter.

"I _mean_ , that you're not _me."_ He shifted. "Let's play something else. Two truths, one lie." Kenshin eased further back.

Kaoru hummed. "I've been kissed. I've never performed Kamiya Kasshin Ryu's final move in battle. I'm actually a bluebird and planning to fly away."

Sano whistled and inhaled to speak, then frowned. He lowered his cup, and his brows drew together angrily. "What?"

 _Yes, what?!_

"Has Kenshin _kissed_ you?"

 _Wait, what? No!_

"Listen, Missy, no man worth a thing is going to be kissing you in dark corners somewhere. And if Kenshin has-" The younger man didn't sound even so much as tipsy now, and his face was a study in outrage.

Kaoru made a rude sound. "Kenshin has never kissed me." Ice crept into Kenshin's warmth, and it had nothing to do with the cool night. There was several moment of silence, and Kenshin's mind was racing. Kaoru had kissed someone. Kaoru had _kissed someone._ And Kenshin would need to leave; he was able to endure many things, but he would not be able to stand by and watch- How could he have misread this situation so badly?

Sano shifted. "Look, I know that he's a little bit slow, but Kenshin is a good-"

"I was six years old, Sano." Sano's startled crack of laughter masked Kenshin's gasp of relief, and the rest of his retreat, too.

He undressed for bed in silence, fingers clumsy with sake, and his mind full of plans. Hestitancy be damned, tomorrow it would be time to act.


	79. Temptations

Setting: Tokyo arc

Because nothing is more tempting that that which we need, on a soul deep level.

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The little plant was nearly choked by weeds no longer, and Kenshin patted the earth around it carefully, then watered it and moved to the next. Working in a garden was ever a source of pleasure, from the smell of the dampth earth to the spring sunshine warming his back, and this garden was in terrible need of tending.

"Kenshin, this is a strange looking weed?" Kaoru held up the offending plant.

"Oro! No, that's burdock, Kaoru-dono. You must put it back, that you must."

Her pretty mouth pulled into a frown. "But it has leaves just like those." She pointed at a neat little pile of freshly pulled burdock seedling, laying forlonely to the side. Kenshin was torn between sighing and laughing and wisely managed to do neither.

"Those are _all_ burdock, Kaoru-dono." She immediately blushed brightly, pink color staining her cheeks and even nose.

"Father did the gardening," she mumbled, and began hastily shoving the little plants back into the ground.

"No, Kaoru-dono," he reached to stop her before she crushed them in her embarrasment, and her hand was warm and callused in his, and very real. She blushed more brightly and Kenshin offered her a gentle smile. "Like this," and he showed her how to be gentle with the plants, and how to space them far apart, and how deeply they must be planted. This garden would feed her later, and was important; this was knowledge that she should have, and Kenshin offered it freely.

So they went from working far apart to working shoulder to shoulder, wrist deep in fertile soil, with small growing things that smelled enchantingly green. Kaoru smelled like flowers, he noticed, her perfume carried to him on the cool breeze. Was that … it _wasn't_ lilac… jasmine? He pushed his curiosity aside and continued working.

Kaoru leaned back and sat on her heels, wiping the sweat from her face and Kenshin was careful not to smile at the smudge of dirt on high cheekbones. "This is nice," she said. "I never really like gardening before."

He hummed agreement and moved on to the carrots. He frowned at the limp and slightly yellowed leaves, and gave the plants more water. Kaoru watched him for a few moments, and he noticed that her cheeks were still pink under the smudge of dirt. Perhaps it was the wind. He showed her how much water to use, and listened as she chattered, a pleasant and meandering stream of words.

They had worked for nearly two hours when Yahiko, sweaty and disgruntled, announced that he was done with his practice swings and called Kaoru away to finish his lessons. Kenshin sat back and smiled at the ground, full of neat rows of small plants, before he rose to begin dinner, stepping carefully around the new yellow chicks that chased him across the courtyard.

He washed the dirt from his hands and nails with satisfaction, and the breeze carried the sounds of Kaoru and Yahiko arguing in the dojo, raised voices and loud thumps. Moving on to washing the rice, he stopped, looking around the gleamingly neat kitchen. In a clean house. Surrounded by a courtyard full of chicks and garden and company, owned by a woman that blushed a beguiling shade of pink and smelled like jasmine.

 _Oh._

In all of his twenty-eight years, he had never been in this particular type of danger.


	80. Overheard

Written for a tumblr flash!fiction challenge, and thus start to finish in less than ten minutes

Setting: ambigous

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"Kenshin, hold still!"

Yahiko froze in his tracks, standing outside in the dark, with a mouthful of half-chewed rice ball.

"Ouch! Kaoru-dono, perhaps not so hard?"

 _Eh?_

"Like this?" Kaoru asked.

 _What?_ He'd just finished walking Tsubame home, and he'd returned to… whatever was happening. He crept forward towards the main house. The lamp was lit, and the rice paper screen was displaying the shadows of his housemates.

House _mate._ There was Kaoru, larger than life and distorted on the screen, but where was Kenshin?

Suddenly a masculine moan cut the air and Yahiko's mind short-wired.

Kaoru- Kaoru was _straddling a moaning Kenshin._ That lump on the floor was _Kenshin_ and Kaoru was crouched over him and he was _moaning_ and it was all too much, but Yahiko's feet were frozen. It was like a nightmare.

"How's the heat?" Kaoru asked, but Kenshin merely groaned quietly in response.

"Aaauuuughhhh!" Yahiko's voice freed his feet and he ran, as fast as he could fly.

.

.

.

"Eh?" Kaoru looked toward the noise, startled, and the man lying next to her knees began to stir. "No, no! Don't tense up, you're ruining my work!"

Kenshin's response was muffled in the blanket.

"You know that Megumi said that shoulder needs massage and hot compresses to heal properly. Now, _relax,_ dang it."


	81. More Tumblr prompt ficlets

These two prompts were both so short, that I published them at the same time.

Prompt: Kenkao, Tainted, Petals

Setting: Tokyo arc

Kaoru did her best not to moan aloud. Kenshin would hear it, and worry. Her stomach cramped, fiercly, and she bit down hard on her lower lip. There was a tea in the kitchen, all she had to do was pretend to be normal for a bit longer. She'd slept until mid-morning, Kenshin would already be out - in fact, she could hear him humming to himself now, presumably doing laundry. She could just steal quietly into the kitchen make her tea, and warm up a packet of rice for her belly. There was no reason to advertise her pain, her private monthly discomfort.

Samurai do not menstruate; a woman was not meant to be samurai. A menstrating woman could not fight. And it was all bullshit. Kaoru grimaced and rolled out of her blankets.

She slid open the door to the kitchen, and quietly gasped, her traitorous eyes filling with tears.

There, sat on the high table, was a tray waiting for her. A tray set with breakfast, and her pain killing tea, and a pink rose. It had been many years since her mother had explained the meanings of flowers, but the pink rose had always stood out in her mind.

 _Trust_.

.

.

.

Prompt: Tae, Hiko, superb, demonstration

She'd given him tea. Hiko stared blankly at the cup for several moments. That woman - Tae - had given him tea instead of sake with his meal. He frowned and looked up, ready to catch her attention and deliver some kind of fittingly clever barb when he corrected the issue.

She was two tables away, politely delivering a bill to the druken fools that he'd noticed earlier.

"Hey," the man slurred, "you should be honored-"

"Yeah, honored!"

"-that we ate here, lady."

"Tha's riiiight."

"We- we are heros, alright?"

"Heros!"

"And- and you should just be honored."

The woman's mouth tightened, her spine straightened, and Hiko was now much more interested in the little drama than before. "I am honored by my customers' patronage." She pressed the bill forward, just a little.

"Right!"

"Yeah!"

"So will you be paying with coins or paper money?"

"What?"

"We take both kinds here."

"But…"

"Hey…"

There was a moment of silent confusion, and the men seemed to become angry. Hiko gathered himself; he would not allow these men to hit a woman, even one that offered him tea

"Perhaps I should show you something taught to me by my friend Sano, eh?" Then the woman did something he hadn't expected; she hustled leader upward by an ear and marched him to the door, his little minion yapping in his wake like a lapdog. At the entrace, she calmly tossed them both onto the street, and bowed.

"Good day," she turned sharply on her heel and walked smartly back inside… counting coins as she did so.

As she passed by his table, Hiko heard her muttering, "- picking your pocket was taught to me by Yahiko. Thugs."

Hiko hid his enormous grin in his cup of tea. Superb.


	82. Warfare

Tokio sat straight and stiff, her posture radiating dissaproval and her mouth drawn into a thin line. Saito was no fool, and he knew better than to ask. Instead, he simply continued eating in precise bites. She would talk when she was ready.

"So. I heard that you visited the Kamiya dojo again."

 _Dammit._ He grunted in reply.

"Kaoru-san came to visit me," _that damn Tanuki!_ "And she said that you went by and said some particularly rude things to her husband. Hajime-san. Kaoru-san is a friend of mine."

Wherever had that Tanuki gotten the idea to visit his wife? She had simply shown up one day while he was gone and with a gift. He hadn't had a moments peace since.

"I had business there."

Tokio's mouth pursed. "Was it business to call my friend's husband a weakling?"

He paused, grinding his teeth. _That. Damn. Tanuki._ "The mochi are quite good," he said instead, taking another bite.

"I'm glad that you like them. Kamiya Kenshin-san made them."

Saito choked.

.

.

.

He _itched._ What on earth was wrong with his clothes? It was like wearing a shirt made of hair. He surpressed the urge to twitch his shoulders.

He knew what this was.

This was warfare. Tokio was unhappy, and she was taking it out on his clothing.

He would need to talk to her after work. A man could only take a certain number of days with stiffly starched underwear.

.

.

.

His wife was taking down the laundry when he returned home. He raised a brow at her stubbornly turned back.

"Would you like to tell me what you think I've done wrong?" His voice was dry.

"Wouldn't you rather guess?" Hers was drier. He racked his brain. _Oh, damn._ Tokio folded the sheet with a snap and turned around, her eyes shooting fire. "Kaoru-san sent a nice letter today. Can you guess what she said?"

He remained silent; it was probably the best defense, afterall.

"Saito Hajime, you went to her house, riled her husband, snuffed a cigarette on her dojo floor, and made their _child_ cry?" She closed her eyes and inhaled through her nose. "I'm terribly afraid, _husband dear,_ that I have burnt your dinner."

.

.

.

The blasted battousi was sweeping his yard as Saito approached. He had the gall to offer a sunny smile.

He knew.

Saito resisted the urge to chew his cigarette out of frustration.

"Your wife has befriended mine."

"Aa, well, Kaoru-dono is quite friendly, that she is."

"Quite."

They sized each other up in silence for a moment. Saito nodded sharply and turned on his heel to leave.

When it came to women, even a strong man should know to retreat


	83. Bleeding

Setting: Pre-Jinchuu

 _ **WARNING:**_ Trigger warning for non-graphic mentions of assault. PLEASE skip this chapter if it might cause you pain.

Also, thank you all for the reviews you've been leaving me. I read and cherish every one, and appreciate y'all taking the time :)

.

.

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It was a beautiful day, crisp and breezy, and scented with flowers. The laundry was white, their dinner was pickling, and not a speck of dust had survived Kenshin's attack. So why wouldn't his stomach settle? The unease had started an hour ago, a restless, queasy energy that no amount of cleaning had purged. He checked the position of the sun; it was too close to dinner for slip away to his favored bamboo grove.

He paused. He checked the position of the sun.

Kaoru was officially late.

Without a second thought, Kenshin changed direction and headed out of the gate. If she was late getting home from practice, he would simply go and walk her home. There was nothing untoward about that. He pasted a rurouni smile on his face and left.

He sensed her first, her ki bright. It was probably from practice. There was no reason to be worried that her fighting spirit was so close to the surface. His stomach twisted and he nearly ran.

Then he saw her, and four things happened at once. One, he did run. Two, his left hand thumbed the sakabatou from its sheath. Three, he cast his senses wide. And four, Kaoru stood still and sighed.

She was _bloody_ , and something within Kenshin roared in anger, but there was nothing and no one around but the two of them. He stopped in front of her, simmering in rage and alarm. Her eye was already purpling, her clothing was torn, her lip was bleeding.

"Kaoru-dono-"

She shook her head, and her mouth twisted into a wry smile, which had to hurt, really. "They didn't hurt me, Kenshin."

The bottom dropped out of his stomach; she obviously was hurt. Which meant that she was implying something else entirely. The roaring in his chest briefly spread to his head and ears until it stopped, crystalized into ice. He nodded briefly and turned back to the dojo.

"Yahiko!" He shouted.

"No," she fiercely whispered, "No, I have to clean up first, Kenshin, what are you-"

"Walk the girls home, please." Kaoru sighed in relief and stepped off the trail until the children had passed. Kenshin spent the time tamping down his fury; a man in a towering rage was not what Kaoru needed now. She walked calmly into their home and sat on the porch.

"I've got a cut that needs bound." Her voice was carefully nuetral but did nothing to soothe his nerves. He fetched their medicines and bandages and sat next to her. She dropped the sleeve of her shirt, the bloody one, and revealed a relatively shallow cut that needed cleaned and dressed. Kenshin couldn't help his frown.

With exquisite care, he cleaned the cut and examined her visible skin, but there were no more marks. They sat in silence for several moment, and Kenshin wanted desperately to ask questions, but how to start?

"One of them had a hidden dagger," she said, "and it caught me just a bit."

" _Kaoru-dono_ -"

"I'm okay, Kenshin," she interrupted. "Really. It's not the first time." She grimaced, and Kenshin ground his teeth.

"When?" And _how dare they_ , and _where are they so I can break them into tiny pieces_?

"Before you came to live here." She looked him in the eyes, for the first time since he'd found her. "I'm a woman that dresses this way, that teaches, and fights and talks back." She shrugged. "It attracts attention."

A thousand words surged behind his teeth.

"I took care of it, Kenshin. _They_ won't be trying again."

What could he say that wouldn't dishonor her? There was nothing to do now but see to her hurts and help her stave off Yahiko's inevitable questions.

Later tonight, once she was asleep, there would be time to hunt.


	84. Heard

Several folks have asked for a sequel to "Bleeding" and I hear you, I'll work on one. On to the fluff!

.

It was the fashion now to "confess;" to stand in front of a woman and tell her that you had feelings for her. Outright. Explicitly. Often with a gift. Young women in the market were now wearing western-style rings. Kaoru was a child of the new era, and he knew that some part of her longed for such things.

It was impossible.

What words were there that could explain how he felt? Did you adore your right arm? Did you cherish the blood in your veins? Did you feel passion for the breath in your lungs? And yet, without them, what were you? What words could he possibly offer her that would be enough?

So he said nothing, nothing more than "Tadiama," and cared for their home, and one Tuesday, he spent over an hour searching for the perfect flower to place on her breakfast tray, and prayed silently that she understood.

Kaoru's eyes were always bottomless as she welcomed him home, she smiled sweetly and thanked him as he did his chores, and she blushed a beautiful shade of pink as she admired the flower.

And it would have to be enough.

.

.

.

After they were married, the words still wouldn't come, were still never right, never adequate. So he held her at night as though she was made of spun glass, and he worshipped her body with his own, and took every opportunity to touch her. His feelings were surely clear though his fingertips, if not his tongue.

And Kaoru seemed content. She never eyed the other women's rings, and her smile was sincere, and eyes radiated happiness. She never seemed bereft.

.

.

.

Then one day, a friend came to visit, excited over her own engagement. Kenshin smiled gently and excused himself to make tea as the women talked.

"Oh, it's a beautiful ring!"

"Thank you; it's Chinese jade. Etsuji-san gave it to me on Thursday," Aoi-dono sighed loudly enough for Kenshin to hear and he smothered a smile, even though the ladies couldn't see him. "It was perfect, Kaoru-chan. He took me for a walk down by the river, and my sister stayed far back, and there were fireflies and moonlight, and he- he _confessed_ , and offered me this and it was everything I wanted." Kenshin frowned at the tea.

"That's wonderful, Aoi-chan."

"It was so _modern_ and _bold._ " The water was boiling and Kenshin blinked in surprise, hurriedly pouring it into the teapot and adding the leaves. Aoi-dono was a nice woman, kind and bubby, but what Kaoru termed a "loud talker;" Kenshin hear the next whispered question clearly, even in the kitchen. "Did Kenshin-san confess his feeling for you?"

Kenshin held his breath and waited.

Kaoru laughed quietly. "Everyday."


	85. Ripples

*Crawls out from under a writer's block rock*

It's odd, but I needed to write it, and so here you go!

 **Setting: 40 years post canon, after Kenshin's death**

.

.

.

He was nearly three hundred miles away from home when he got the letter.

 _Your grandfather has died._

Four words, and each a punch to the guts. Haru sucked a breath in through his teeth, his stomach tightening with physical pain. It must have happened while he was at sea, and there had been no way to reach him, warn him, or call him home. Grandfather Kenshin would have known that Haru wouldn't make it for his final days, wouldn't have blamed him.

Grandfather had been his world when Haru was small. With both of his parents working, Grandfather Kenshin had nearly raised him, on tea cakes and laundry and sunshine. The world had been moving so fast, but within the walls of the Kamiya home, time meant nothing. It had been Haru's oasis of peace.

Grandfather had spread soothing salve on his skinned knees, those long fingered hands so careful. He had held a frightened Haru during storms, safe in his arms and in his lap. It had been Grandfather to whom he'd cried with his first broken heart.

And then the day when Granfather Kenshin had Told Him. He Told all of the grandchildren, had said that they needed to know, to keep them safe. Haru would never forget Grandfather's eyes when he'd calmly explained his past. Haru had nearly laughed - it was ridiculous! His kind Grandfather Kenshin, an assassin? Pigs would fly.

And then the pain and horror in his heart when he'd understood it to be truth. The terrible acceptance that was in Grandfather's eyes.

Haru had never loved his grandfather more on any day than he had on that one, on the day that he first seen his grandfather as just a man.

"Hey. You okay?" Haru blinked burning eyes and offered his friend, a Frenchman and fellow sailor, a small headshake. "Bad news from home, eh? The worst." The big man clapped his shoulder in commiseration.

Haru clutched the letter too tightly. "My- my grandfather died while we were out." The words were painful to say. Victor's face twisted in sympathy. "Did I ever tell you about him?" He shook his head, and somehow Haru found himself seated on a bunk, spilling out his overflowing heart.

"He was… he was the gentlest man I ever knew… "


	86. Marriage

_Where is-?_ Ah, of course, there he was, crouching over a basin of ever present laundry. Kaoru paused and took a moment to admire the small man, and the contented look on his face. A cool breeze reminded her that she was standing in the yard in her robe, still damp from her bath.

"Kenshin?" She crossed the yard and crouched down next to him. "After I get dressed, we need to go and get some miso, okay?"

"Of course, Kaoru-dono," his smile was broad. She wasn't sure what came over her, why she did it, but she did.

Swift as thought, her hand shot out and Gently Smiling Husband became Shocked and Soaking Wet Husband, suds adorning his bright hair. There was a moment of utter silence.

And then he laughed, a full and low and lovely sound, and his own hand hit the water at a perfect angle, flinging warm water in her direction, and it dissolved into a water war until the tub was empty, and they stumbled, still laughing, into the bath house to rinse.

.

.

.

At lunch, his eyes were still glowing, in fact, they hadn't stopped. Kaoru was wary. Still, she hadn't noticed a thing awry until he presented her with a dish. He uncovered it with a flourish, and Kaoru's mouth dropped open.

It was her hairbow.

Her hand flew to hthe back of her head and Kenshin's eyes laughed brighter.

 _How did he do that?_

 _._

 _._

 _._

At bedtime, she could tell that his eyes were still dancing, still light. She was on her guard, and not entirely surprised when he tackled her into their bedding, deft hands finding her ticklish spots. Kaoru squealed and squirmed. Kenshin was faster, and a bit stronger, but Kaoru was no lightweight, and she fought dirty. Briefly, she gained the advantage, stradling her husband's waist, his hands pinned over his head, and - he was beautiful, his flame bright hair mussed with sleep and their play, his eyes a laughing light blue. Then he wrenched his hips hips and moved his hands and her dominance ended as he resumed the top positioin.

"Yeild," his voice was husky and too attractive to be fair.

"Never!" She writhed and wriggled where she lay between his thighs.

His voice dropped an octave. "Yeild," he coaxed and nipped her ear. With her suddenly free hands, she grabbed a handful of red hair and her mouth was too busy to respond - verbally


	87. Wounds

Setting: Shortly after marriage

Trigger warnings: mentions of unwilling sex work

.

.

.

Kaoru folded the futon away, kneeling to put it in its place for the day. She grimaced as a board squeaked under her weight. Yet another repair that needed to be made. She made a mental note to ask Kenshin to fix it, and rose to dress.

.

.

.

.

Yahiko stretched and yawned. He ached in half a dozen places from practice, but the bed that had been his a few short weeks ago felt lumpy in unfamiliar places and he was having trouble drifting off to sleep. Maybe he _should_ have gone back to his place instead of sleeping at the dojo, but the rowhouse was drafty, and he was warm, with a full belly and sore arms and it had seemed like a good idea at the time... He rolled over and squeezed his eyes shut with determination. He heard the murmur of Kenshin's voice on the other side of the wall, and Kaoru's quiet responses. The dojo was quiet and the blankets were soft and he felt himself letting go of consciousness, falling without moving, relaxing as though his bones were melting into the bed…

 _Squeak._

The bed wasn't as uncomfortable as he'd originally thought. He smiled drowsily, nearly asleep.

 _Squeak, squeak. Squeak._

In Yahiko's dreamy state, the squeaking from the next room became something different. His mind's eye replayed another man and woman in a futon, another squeaky board. A man's excited grunting and his mother's tears, falling like crystals, and Yahiko, so small Yahiko whose curosity led him to see something he wasn't meant to see.

The next day, there had been rice to fill his hungry belly and he hadn't been able to eat it.

Fully awake now, Yahiko's heart hammered and his mouth was dry, but it was like he was frozen in place. The squeaking continued and unwilling tears formed in the corners of his eyes. _It's just Kenshin and Kaoru,_ he thought, _they're married. He's not hurting her._ Ugh, he was so _stupid_ what was _wrong_ with him-! The squeaking stopped, and Yahiko was able to move again. He tossed away the blankets, and scrubbed at his face, then went to get a drink of water.

.

.

.

He didn't even hear Kenshin approach.

"Yahiko, are you alright?"

Yahiko swallowed the water and an enormous lump in his throat. "Yes." He stood still, his back to Kenshin. It was bad enough to be stupid and weak, but to have Kenshin _see_ it… he refused to move.

"This one heard you get up."

Yahiko shrugged, and there was a moment of silence.

"This one should have fixed the loose board today, that I should have." _Dammit!_ Why did Kenshin always have to guess? "It will be fixed tomorrow."

"It's dumb!" Yahiko threw the ladle into the water bucket with more force than necessary. " _I'm_ dumb, it doesn't matter, you guys are _married,_ and it's stupid, and I'm sorry-" He clenched his teeth together before more idiotic words spilled out.

"This one doesn't think it's dumb, Yahiko, that I don't." Kenshin's eyes were soft and compassionate in the moonlight, and it made Yahiko want to punch him somehow. "If it helps; this one would never do anything that Kaoru-dono did not want me to do."

Yahiko slumped. "I know," his voice was barely more than a whisper in the dark.

Kenshin's hand was warm on his shoulder. "This one will fix the board in the morning, Yahiko."


	88. Blood

"Dammit," he mumbled and scrubbed his hands again, because he couldn't quite help it, and they were still bloody today. He grimaced and forced himself to stop, because he knew that the blood wasn't real, but the dirt from cleaning the house today was. He briefly scrubbed his body and hair clean, rinsed, and sat in the beautifully warm water to soak.

It was the first day since his wedding to Kaoru that he'd seen the blood on his hands. He felt the heat seep into his skin and tried to meditate, poor as he was at it. Kaoru would be waiting and he didn't want the look in his eyes to scare her. So, he tried calming techiniques, breathing evenly through his nose and into his diaphragm until the water cooled and his bloody fingertips wrinkled.

There was nothing for it. It was time for bed.

He smiled for her when he saw her, and watched her braid all of that beautiful inky dark hair over her shoulder. He sat still as she brushed out his hair as she did every night, then crawled into the blankets next to her, his wife. And when she fell asleep, he stayed awake, counting her breaths.

If he slept, he would dream. He didn't want to sleep, didn't want to bring the blood on his hands to life in his mind. He didn't want to have the Bakumatsu, and the Battousai, in Kaoru's bed.

He didn't want to sleep. He'd stay awake. He'd stay awake next to his warm, evenly breathing wife. He wouldn't...sleep…

.

.

.

 _His target was only two streets over. Just two streets. The man was nothing to him, no one, but his name was in the black envelope and so he would die. And so would his guards._

 _Kenshin stood silently in the shadows, his dark clothing and very stillness making him all but invisible. And he waited for the targets to come to him._

 _One street over._

 _Around the corner._

Now.

 _He was just a flash, a blur, a moving shadow, and the men that opposed him might as well have been standing still, for all the good they were as bodyguards. Two, four, six down and then it was the man named as his target. Blood ran down Kenshin's swords, his hands; it was splattered on his clothes and hair and face, like the Demon of Kyoto that they called him. The target, the man, fat and stupid, fell to his knees and began to sob and beg._

 _Kenshin felt nothing, blessed nothing._

 _He raised his sword._

"KENshin."

 _He blinked._

"KENshin, wake up."

Kenshin's eyes flew open and he leapt out of his own bed, landing on his backside, covers a twisted mess around his legs.

There was Kaoru, kneeling at the foot of the futon, hand outstretched to slap the bottom of his foot again. She settled her hands against her knees and made no more effort to touch him, but her eyes shone in the moonlight.

"You were having a dream," she said simply, and Kenshin wanted to be sick. After a moment she crawled back into their bed and began straightening the covers, turning them back in blatant invitation.

"I -" he cleared his throat, "This one is sorry that he woke you."

She looked at him for several long seconds and her face was solemn. "It's okay. Come back to bed."

 _It's_ not _okay,_ he wanted to shout. He wanted to break things. _It's not okay that I did this, I wasn't supposed to sleep-_

"All soldiers have nightmares, Kenshin."

 _I wasn't just a soldier._

"My father did too," she said, looking at the ceiling, her right hand playing with the fingers on her left. "I always used to wake him by slapping him on the foot."

"Kaoru…"

Her smile was shadowed with something indiscernable. "Come to bed, Kenshin," and he found himself obeying, crawling beneath the blankets and laying still next her.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

 _No!_ He opened his mouth to put his denial into words, but Kaoru merely hummed and curled onto his shoulder. "Tomorrow we need to go get some more miso. And tofu. And I think that we're out of salt," she said, and his tongue twisted into a confused knot. She chattered about shopping, and Tae, and her fingers began tracing patterns into his chest. The horror faded in the face of the very mundane.

Her hair smelled like flowers, and her body was warm against his own, curved sweetly and soft and heavy against his arm. Despite himself, nearly against his will, the tension left his body. She smiled into his skin, then pressed a warm kiss against his mouth.

"Goodnight," she said.


	89. Ambiguous

_Slash, block, thrust. Step, step, slash._ His breath came fast and hard in his lungs, burning in the best of ways. Bamboo fell to the sakabatou, and still Kenshin practiced, accelerating his pace, pushing his body faster, harder. His sword was an extension of his own self, another limb, an integral piece. Sweat dripped and muscles ached and he was full of hte fierce joy of movement. _Perfect._ His movements were perfect today, and he knew it. Nothing was quite like the sword, there was nothing in life that could be done perfectly like the sword, nothing like the mastery of one's own body.

And still he practiced, until his aching muscles began to slow and stiffen, until the sweat dripped into his eyes, until the bamboo was a distant memory, littering the ground like autumn leaves. With regret, he began the cooling movements taught to him many, many years ago, movements that were as much a part of him as his hair or eyes. Finally, he stopped, panting and sweating, aching and joyful. Without thought, he perfomed _chiburi_ and sheathed his sword.

He paused, momentarily frozen by the telling movement.

 _An assassin is an assassin until the day he dies._

Perfect.


	90. Anticipation

Kaoru smiled indulgently at her husband and son, red heads close together as they searched. She watched the two sets of hands as they stroked across her belly, one large and one so small, both beloved, both seeking. Then the baby gave a strong kick, and Kenji squealed.

"Here, Daddy! Here!" And Kenshin's hand laid over the smaller one of her son, and both of her boys smiled broadly, feeling the fluttering under their palms. Then Kenshin crowded down, laying his face against her round belly, and began whispering nonsense to their unborn child. She stroked a hand over his bright hair, enjoying the silky texture and listening to his welcoming words.

"It's time for bed, Kenji," Kaoru said and moved to lever herself to her feet.

"No, Kaoru-dono, you rest. This one will do it, that I will."

"Hugs, mommy!" and Kenji leaned over the awkward bulk of her abdomen to wrap small arms around her neck and squeeze. He was such a child of extremes; passionate temper and deep love. She squeezed back, and then pressed a hand to her lips when Kenji shifted to wrap his arms around her belly, hugging a life not yet begun.

"Goodnight," he whispered. "We'll play again tomorrow."

She sat and listened to the murmurs of her family's voices from inside their home and fanned herself against the summer heat, sipping her cooled buckwheat tea. "Another month, little one. Just one more month and then you get to meet them."

The baby kicked in response


	91. Arrival

Kaoru's second preganancy went well; she was neither sick, nor in danger at any time. She was simply herself, plus one. Kenshin had watched her carefully, assessingly, everyday to make sure. She _was_ fine, she'd been fine every day of three seasons. She bore her restrictions well, she didn't complain or fuss or malinger and he knew that it was for his benefit. He would never admit to the worry, but she knew anyway, and had tried to ease him.

 _Women die in childbirth._

Kaoru had been at risk with Kenji, he could have lost both wife and child that day, six years ago. And now she was about to give birth again; his chest was as tight as a drum, every waking moment, and the blood in his dreams had little to do with the Bakumatsu.

"Kenshin?" He looked up from the laundry and smiled at her. "Kenshin," her hand was braced against her back, counterbalancing the awkward weight. She was so small, and the baby had had to push for room, so she very much looked as though someone had stuffed a watermelon under her clothes. "It's started now, I think. Would you please take Kenji to Tae's and let Dr. Gensai know that it will happen today?"

He blinked. _It's started now…_ "Oro!" Laundry was abandoned on the ground and anxious hands steadied an already steady wife.

"Kenshin," she batted his hands away. "It'll be _hours_ yet, I'm fine. Just let's get things started, ne?"

"But -"

"I'm _fine._ It's barely begun! It'll probably happen tonight, maybe well after sundown. You go see to Kenji and the doctor." He nodded, stupidly. And then sprang towards the house, calling for his son like a man demented. .

.

.

.

Never had any trip to town been accomplished with such speed. Kenji was deposited with a surprised, and happy Tae, who saw him on his way again with well wishes and then it was to Dr. Gensai's clinic.

"Kamiya-san, if it has only begun, then Kaoru-san is correct and it will be many hours yet."

Kenshin said nothing, but the look in his eyes was enough. "Well, then, ah, I suppose it could not hurt to check up on her." And Kenshin stamped down his impatience with the older man as he gathered his things and plodded along the road to the dojo quite serenly, as though Kenshin's heart and life were not in danger at all.

 _Women die in childbirth._

He waited as the doctor examined Kaoru behind the closed screens on their bedroom, anxious and bristling at being locked out. Kaoru herself had insisted, though, blushing bright red and ready to throw him bodily from the room if he didn't move of his own volition. So, here he was, lurking in the hall of his own home and waiting to hear what the doctor had to say.

He stared at the door, hard enough to set it afire, until the doctor re-emerged. "She's fine," he said, the first words out of his mouth. "It's a second birth, it will be quicker than the first, but it is still many hours away. I will come back after the clinic closes." Kenshin wished more than ever that Megumi had been able to come stay. The doctor put his hand on Kenshin's shoulder. "My boy, the best thing that you can do for her is to cook her a nice lunch, warm and strengthening foods, see that she drinks plenty of water, and walk with her." Gensai smiled. "She's strong and young in and fine shape. All will be well."

Kaoru ate the lunch, and later the dinner, and drank the water he pushed into her hands, and walked the perimeter of their yard repeatedly. Several times an hour, her face would contort with pain, but she brushed his hands and concerns aside, smiling. "It's just the way it is, Kenshin. Tomorrow, we'll have a baby! And I'll get to sleep on my stomach again." In afternoon she gave in to his panicked need and laid down for a nap.

It wasn't until an hour before sundown that she emerged from the outhouse, her face serious for the first time. "My waters have broken. Go get the doctor, Kenshin, and hurry."

 _Women die in childbirth._

He carried the old man back home this time, ignoring the indignant protests. His wife needed a doctor, _and she was going to get a doctor._ They found her on the porch, on her hands and knees, rocking in place.

" _Kaoru!"_ He gasped.

"No, no, it's fine," her voice was muffled in the odd position. "This just feels nice."

Dr. Gensai patted his shoulder. "Laboring women know what they need, son; it's better to let them do as they will. But, we should do a little exam, eh? How long ago was it that the waters broke?" And the old man prattled on with gentle questions as he led Kaoru to their room, shutting Kenshin into the hall once again.

Kenshin's eyes narrowed. _Not again._

 _Women die in childbirth._

He opened the screen with a firm _clack_ against the frame, and when Dr. Gensai would have protested, a simple look at Kenshin's face caused him to shut his mouth again. The other man's disapproval was evident when Kenshin took his place, braced behind his semi-reclined wife, but Kaoru just welcomed him with a smile.

Nine hours after labor first began, it was time for the pushing. Kaoru herself announced it, and Dr. Gensai confirmed it.

And she did beautifully. She squeezed his hands until they ached, she bit her lip, she insisted on sitting nearly upright, thighs clenched and toes curled. And it took sixteen minutes. It took sixteen minutes and seven pushes before his second son entered the world, covered in fluid and with an angry face, his indignant wails strong and clear. And then Kaoru laughed, clear and bright, collapsing into Kenshin's waiting arms.

"Do you hear that, Kenshin? He's so strong! Like his father." Her smile was beautiful.

"No," he corrected, "He's like his mother, that he is."


	92. Astute

So we were streaming Trust and Betrayl and talking about how much damage poor Kenshin's body took in that arc. And how there would have been consequences...

Setting: Tokyo arc.

The weather was going to ruin his laundry. No less than four joints were telling him so. He put away the dust rag and turned to go outside.

"Kenshin?" He turned and smiled at the shihondai as she approached from his right. She began helping him take down and fold the clean laundry. "It's going to rain today, eh?"

"It's alright, that it is, Kaoru-dono, the laundry has already dried." They worked in companionable silence for several minutes and Kenshin mulled over Kaoru's perceptiveness, instead of paying attention to her perfume.

Kaoru always sat on his right side. She faced him as she spoke, even when she had to angle her body to do so. She often began sentences addressed to him with his name, even when unnecessary. How had she guessed that he was deaf in his left ear? Kenshin could count on one hand the number of people that had noticed. Kaoru never said anything, but she knew.

He took the laundry to the house and began delivering it the correct rooms. He opened the screen to his own room with one hand, balancing the clean laundry basket on his hip, and grimacing as his shoulder twinged. _Always before a rain,_ he thought and began to put away his clothing.

And paused. There, sitting on his small table, was a medicine container that hadn't been there this morning. He opened it and nearly laughed. It was a light green and distinctly scented. Muscle ointment. For his shoulder.

Perceptive indeed.


	93. Restoration

Setting: shortly after marriage

It was cold today with the first chill of late autumn. Kenshin shrugged into his new jacket, smiling apppreciatively at it's warmth. He crossed to the storage shed, knelt and opened the chest against the far wall, sorting carefully through it, searching for a certain violet scarf. He hadn't worn Tomoe's scarf in months and it would be nice to feel it's familiar weight. He moved aside his old, faded magenta shirt and blinked down at the wooden bottom of the chest.

For a long moment, he simply stared. _I know that I put it here… where…?_ He sorted through the items again, and again, and there was no scarf. A small bloom of panic grew in his chest. _Why isn't it here_? Finally, he walked to town, a deep frown etching his face. He shopped and walked home, disturbed, the chill wind nipping at his neck and throat.

He made their dinner in a daze. "Dammit," he cursed quietly through his teeth and pried the burnt fish from the grill.

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He served the burnt fish apologetically.

Kaoru merely waved a hand. "I'm sure it's fine, Kenshin." He let her pleasant chatter wash over him, quietly swallowing his rice. His mushy, overcooked rice. He sighed and pushed the bowl away.

"Kenshin?" Kaoru put her own bowl down. "I have something for you." She extended a package with both hands. "I meant to have it done ages ago." He took a moment to study the lovely wrapping cloth and then carefully unfolded it. And blinked down at - it was… it was Tomoe's scarf. "I thought you might be searching for it today when I saw you in the shed."

"Kaoru-dono?" He was confused, clutching the precious cloth in his hands.

"Do you see?" She leaned over, pleasure and excitement in her face. "It took forever to find a thread that matched!" He looked down, and this time _really_ looked. There, where the scarf had snagged badly on a branch, the jagged tear had had his own large, poor mending had been removed and replaced with Kaoru's own tiny, careful stitches. And _there_ , where it had been slashed with a blade that had gotten uncomfortably close, Kaoru's neat hand had made a repair that was nearly invisible. He turned the fabric over in his hands, wonder growing steadily as he realized that it had once again been rendered whole and beautiful.

"Kaoru-dono…"

She smiled, and arranged the scarf around his neck, in its rightful place.


	94. First

I had a request for another "first kiss" scenario, and this is what I came up with.

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"This one is sorry, Takahari-dono, but one couldn not possibly pay more than two sen, that I could not." Kenshin smiled guilessly and offered a small bow.

The vendor sighed gustily. "Alight, Himura-san, but only because you're one of my best custmers! Don't tell anyone, or I'll be destitute in a week." The man handed over the items and Kenshin tucked them into his basket with another bow. It had been a good deal, the sun was warm for autumn, and the breeze carried with it the pleasant smells of street foods cooking. He turned his feet toward home - home - and tried to enjoy the pleasant day.

Perhps Tae would be gone when he returned and he and Kaoru could enjoy a quiet, and private, evening. The wedding would be soon, and their lives had been a whirlwind of activity. And visitors; there had been an endless parade of visitors. He hadn't realized to just what extent Kaoru was embedded in the local community; his eyes were opened now.

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"Tadaima!" He called as he walked through the gate.

"Okaerinasai," her repsonse was muffled from deep within their home. The kitchen, he thought, and walked that way, carrying the groceries for several nice meals with him. "Oro?"

The kitchen was a disaster, always the result of Kaoru's baking. She made nice tea cakes, and he loved them, but this mess was worse than usual. His finacee stood in the middle of the chaos, with an expression equally guilty and trimumpant. "Kenshin! Come try these," and she held out a lovely little cake, only slightly lopsided. His mouth watered. He took it carefully from her sticky fingers and oooh, it tasted even better than he'd thought it would, sweet and smooth and perfect. He chewed slowly, savoring the treat and tamping down his panic at his devastated kitchen.

Kaoru watched him with pleasure, and he smiled at the flour in her hair. "I made them with honey," she said, "I was able to get a really good deal on it and I knew that you'd like it." Her own smile was broad, clearly enjoying how much he liked the sweet. She had more flour on her nose, he noticed, his smile growing. And honey on her mouth.

His mouth dried a little. "Kaoru-dono, you have a little something," he gestured to his own mouth.

"Oh," she said and blushed, wiping at her lips. She missed the drop of honey. Kenshin sat the unfinished teacake on the table.

"No, here," he gestured again, and again she missed it. He reached out a hand, gently brushing the drop away. Her lips were as soft was flower petals, plump and pliant under his thumb. He swallowed against the parched desert that was his throat. She leaned forward, her eyes dark and dreamy and he found himself leaning foward too, meeting her halfway.

She tasted sweet, like honey and teacakes and everything wonderful. He gently licked at her lips, gathering that sweetness on his tongue. Her mouth opened on a soft sigh and without a thought, he followed her breath back to her. Oh, but she was soft and slick and wet and wonderful, and her body was pressed against his somehow and her perfumed was in his nose and then her small hands were on his shoulders, and -

He made a strangled nose and jumped away, breathing hard, his head full of buzzing. Kaoru opened her eyes slowly, swaying on her feet and the look on her face was more than a man ought to have to bear.

"Thank you, Kaoru-dono. For the sweets."

It was improper, he knew, but he refused to say "I'm sorry" for something like that.


	95. Story teaser 2

Kaoru is a unisex name, and gave birth to this idea. I've been kicking it around for a year, now, and finally am typing it out. Here's the prologue, more to come when I get a beta reader.

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"Nice job, pal."

"That was good!" Kaoru accepted the congratulations and backslapping quietly.

"You're not up for another three bouts; get comfortable, friend, take off the armor." Kaoru mutely shook her head. "What are you, scarred or something?" She shrugged awkwardly and the men stopped trying to be friendly. She took her seat and waited, watching the tournament unfold before her. The two men fighting in the center now were good, but the one in red had moments of poor form; he kept leaving his right leg exposed. Bored with the match, knowing the outcome already, her gaze wandered over the crowd. It was a festive occasion; nearly every school in the city had sent someone. There were banners flying, and vendors selling street food. The smell of the roasted corn caused her stomach to cramp a little and she was forcibly reminded that she had left the dojo this morning before breakfast.

Not that Kenshin would have minded her entering of a kendo tournament, not really. But he would have _known_ and then he would have asked how it went when she came home. Or worse yet, he would have wanted to come with her, and she would have had to explain - explain that this tournament had been set up by, and for, men.

Her nervous sweat made her uncomfortable kendo armor chafe, and so she took some deep, soothing breaths, ignoring the cheering crowd, the tempting smells and her own discomfort.

"Himura Kaoru!" Kamiya Kaoru was too known, a pillar of the community. _Himura Kaoru_ was the name of an unknown man, a man proudly using Kamiya Kasshin Ryu, but a man. She rose in answer to the call of her name, such as it was, and adjusted her face mask, taking the center stage.

Her opponent was surely the size of a bear, and with an unpleasant expression. Well. If Kenshin could fight like he did, barely larger than she, there was no excuse. She took the beginning stance.

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"Three, two, one!" Kenshin steadied Hideki on his back (he'd never quite trusted the sturdiness of a baby carrier), and set off in search of his eldest son. Kenji's _ki_ was always loud and bright, and Kenshin would have known that he was hiding under the porch even without the little boy's giggles. Still, Kenshin made a great show of looking around the yard, wondering loudly where the child could possibly be, listening to Kenji's giggles steadily gain volume. The baby at his back babbled and cheerfully tugged at Kenshin's bright hair while he searched. He repressed a sigh, Kaoru would kill him if he cut it again.

"Here he is!" He smiled at his son, who was cheerfully dirty now, dirt smudging his pale little face.

"My turn, Daddy!" Kenji rolled out from under the porch.

"Now, now, it's time for this one to begin lunch, that it is." Kenji made face, and Kenshin laughed. "Come now, you may slice the squash." He ushered his eldest boy into the house, a bounce in his step designed to make the baby giggle. He placed Hideki in his little wicker basket and proceeded to cook, listening to Kenji's bright chatter. _Kaoru should have been home by now,_ he thought, _hopefully everything is well at the Maekawa dojo..._

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Kaoru stood on shaky legs, panting and sweating, with adrenaline pounding in her head. _I did it._ She looked at her opponent, and his surly expression confirmed it. _I won._ Not just a points victory, but a sound defeat. Behind her mask, her smile was fierce. The man bowed reluctantly but properly.

"...Himura Kaoru!" She bowed, and schooled the smile from her face into a properly solemn mein. She accepted her ribbon and went through the motions of accepting a small plaque, and it was over.

She exited the area in a daze, and lost herself in the crowd.

" _How could I loose?"_ Natsu snarled. "That man was _tiny."_ Natsu was obviously enraged and Tadashi made himself small. "He must have cheated." Tadashi felt disdain creep into the fear.

"This Kamiya Kasshin Ryu." Their leader's eyes held an ugly glint. "Let's go check them out."

They followed Himura at a discreet distance. When he stepped behind a tree, they paused and waited. Himura never reappeared. Instead, a woman came out, carrying what was presumably kendo armor in a big over her shoulder. A small woman, with long dark hair that shone in the sunlight and a stride that was long and happy as she walked away.

"No," Natsu breathed, and his hand tightened on Tadashi's shoulders until his bones creaked. Dread filled his stomach.


	96. Sisters

In honor of Halloween, lovelies.

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"Like this, Sister?"

The other woman tasted the sauce. "Just a bit more."

Kaoru smiled and added a little more salt to the mixture in the bowl; the other woman's eyes shone with approval.

"Now, stir it well, Little Sister, and don't forget to keep an eye on the frying meat."

"Oh no - " Older Sister put a calming hand on her arm.

"Don't panic; dinner preparation simply requires calm. You're doing fine." Kaoru turned the breaded meat, as calmly as she could. "Good, very good. Now, attend to the rice."

"How do you keep it all straight? I don't think I'll ever -"

"Yes, you will," Older sister's voice was firm. "You'll learn. You just needed a teacher. Now. The rice…"

Kaoru chewed her lip and followed her directions. "Thank you for showing me this."

"Of course. We're sisters, aren't we?"

Compaionable silence stretched between them. "You should stay for dinner."

The older woman shook her head, "I cannot stay."

"At least meet my husband, Sister."

Kaoru's sister's eyes shone, "I cannot stay, Kaoru-san. Now. Add the sauce, just lightly, like _so…"_

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Kaoru set the made the trays for dinner carefully, smiling at the evidence of her hard work.

"Taidaima."

"Okaeri-nasai!" she called, and smiled more widely at the sound of her husband arriving home.

"Kaoru-dono…" Kenshin's eyes widened at the sight of the veritable feast laid on before him. Kaoru blushed with pleasure.

Perhaps two bites into the meal, Kenshin's expression became odd, and he chewed very slowly. "Kaoru-dono. Did you add bean paste to this?"

Kaoru blinked. "...Yes?"

Kenshin gently poked at the pork in his bowl. "Where did you learn to make this?"

"Elder sister" _Of course her elder sister_ "taught me and she said," … _elder sister? I… I don't_ have _a sister..._ "That you would like it this way."

"Kaoru-dono…Does your elder sister wear a purple sash, by chance?"

Kenshin set his meal down on his tray, and they both stared at it.


	97. Remedy

Kenshin was snoring. Kaoru held carefully still. If she moved too much, he'd wake. She counted breaths and listened to her husband. Snoring.

Kenshin didn't sleep much, had never slept much, not since coming to live at the dojo. He retired long after she did and woke before her and that had been the rhythm of their lives for months. After Jinchuu, she'd tried everything from buckwheat tea to threats to get him to bed and asleep at a reasonable time, and her tactics had rarely worked.

 _Now,_ though, there was a new tactic in her repertoire: sex. She'd heard other women laugh that it made a man sleep like no other drug, and surely, they were right. She carefully stretched a cramp from her left leg. Kenshin had never slept so much before their marriage as he had these last few weeks, and she was inordinately pleased.

He was sleeping because of _her._ He was resting and healing and it was all because of her. His wounds from Jinchuu were tender pink scars now, and he'd gained a _kan_ in the last twelve weeks. His hair was sleek and shining, his form packed with firm, sinewy muscle. He moved like a man that didn't ache. His stamina was better than it had ever been.

Megumi's warnings still rang loud in her ears; Kenshin's body would deteriorate, because he hadn't the muscle to use his swordstyle. Well then. He simply needed more muscle, more reserves to draw from. And if she needed to make love to her beautiful husband each day until he slept dead to the world, then she would; it was certainly not a hardship. And he'd certainly never said _no_.

Kaoru smiled broadly at the darkness, and listened to Kenshin sleep/heal/rest/recover.


	98. Metamorphosis

Just a tiny thing, a break from the other thing I'm writing. :D

 _Everyone has one or two things in their past…_

Kaoru's father's things were too large for the small _rurouni_ , but maybe something from when he was younger… She rifled through the chest and found a red top, and off white hakama. He was standing in the main room, watching the chicks scratch for bugs in the yard. He smiled when she offered him the clothes and accepted them with pleased surprise. He had a nice smile, this wanderer. _And probably fleas, too._ She showed him to the bath house and he seemed eager to use it, thank goodness. She'd given room and board to one man for a few days that had refused to bathe and she'd had to air that futon with vigor when he'd left.

She went to prepare dinner. _Something easy,_ she mused, _maybe just rice and pickles and the last of dried fruit._

"Kaoru-dono, this one would be pleased to help you, that I would."

 _Perfect!_ He was a good cook. She turned with a ready smile and nearly gasped. From dirty, sweaty, patched, tangled, ragged wandered to- _this._ This man, with shining red hair, neatly dressed, and smelling of good soap. This man with cheekbones like knife-edges and a pointed chin, and a mouth that made her feel … tingly and restless somehow. This man with fine boned hands taking the cooking chopsticks from the counter, hands like an artist, with a swordsmans' calluses. His odd, light eyes had gone from sweet and charming to breaktaking when set in a clean face. His smile had gone from "nice" to gut-twisting. Kaoru breathed in was swamped with the smell of clean _man_ , the warmth of him nearly palpable where she stood next to him.

She'd wanted the kind, haunted _rurouni_ to stay, and what she'd gotten was _this man -_ Himura Kenshin. She breathed shallowly through her nose, and tried not to say anything stupid.


	99. Cleasing

"Shhh, no, Kenji-chan," Kenshin reached out blindly and pushed himself into a sitting position. He took the baby out of his basket, laid him on a handily positioned blanket, changed the wet wrapping for a fresh, dry one, and gathered the baby into his arms.

To confirm what he already knew, Kenshin checked his pocket watch from the side table, the one that Kaoru had bought for him as a marriage gift. It was, indeed, only an hour since Kaoru had last fed their son. "Your mama needs her sleep." He bundled the baby against any possible chill and took him out onto the porch, shutting the shoji behind them quietly. It was raining, the first rain since his son had been born. The first rain that would fall on the world with Himura Kenji in it.

The baby mewled unhappily and Kenshin looked from the rain down the the bundle in his arms. Fuzzy red hair poked out of the top of the blanket, and Kenshin couldn't resist stroking a finger across it, feeling the downy softness. The baby blinked open unfocused eyes and Kenshin smiled down at him, marveling again at his own face, set in miniature.

The baby kicked inpatient feet. Kenshin brought him up his chest and bounced him gently, patting cotton-wrapped bottom and humming an old song, something that evoked the memory of bright hair, cool hands, and gentle touches. The baby fussed briefly and then settled, snuffling into Kenshin neck.

So he sat, long after the baby had fallen asleep, watching the gentle rain and humming his mother's lullaby, his wife sleeping peacefully in the room at his back. Kenshin wet dry lips, his chest too full and aching.

"Kenji-chan. This unworthy one," and the title had never been more true, "is happy that you are here." The baby slept on, and the darkness grew thin as morning approached, and still he sat, and still he murmured gratitude to the rain and sky, his son a warm, slight weight in his arms.

"Kenshin?" He startled a little, surprised that Kaoru was able to surprise him, and she smiled gently as she seated herself next to them, her eyes soft and dark. "Would you like me to take him?"

"This one is fine, Kaoru-dono." And so he was.


	100. Chapter 100!

It's my 100th ficlet! Oh man, has it been that long?

Also, THANK YOU to my reviewers, it really really means so much to me.

Lastly, this one is extra long, about 2,000 words, as a thank you gift for sticking with me for so long :D

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The letter came on a Wednesday, when Hiko was chopping wood. He paid the runner and seated himself to read, recognizing his stupid pupil's terrible handwriting. It had the flavor of rambling, and only got to the point at the very end…

 _This one intends to stay in Tokyo, that he does, and yet now finds himself with a dilemma. This one has decided to ask Kaoru-dono to be my wife._

"Pfft _." He finally made a decision, eh?_ A passing stranger might have mistaken Hiko's expression for a smile.

 _Neither of us have any blood family remaining. How does one properly ask a lone woman for her hand? There is no one to intercede! This one would greatly appreciate your advice in this matter…_

"Idiot." Hiko rose and folded the letter, tucked it into his shirt, and entered his house.

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"The weather is really changing now." Kaoru warmed her hands at the oven.

She smelled like flowers. Kenshin smiled for her. "Aa, so it is. It will be warm by noon, though." She smiled sweetly at him, and Kenshin's chest twinged. She really was beautiful. He handed her a breakfast tray and followed her into main room to eat.

"I'm going to Tae's today. I will be home by three." He nodded. "I'll do the shopping while I'm out. What do we need? More miso?" Kaoru kept up a lively stream of chatter and Kenshin let it wash over him appreciatively, making appropriate noises at the correct intervals. He finished the dishes and had cleaned the counters before she finally took her leave.

She'd not really stopped hovering since Jinchuu. She was careful to always let him know where she was going, and when she'd be home. She had never been late. He picked up his basket of laundry and made his way outside, humming under his breath. The sunshine was warm on his back, and the wash water warm on his hands and arms. The scent of soap filled the air and the rhythm of the familiar chore was soothing. He was nearly finished before he sensed a _kenki_ that was large, bright, and very well trained. He rose and rested a hand on the _sakabatou_ , staring intensely at the gate.

The person knocked. Hard. The gate shuddered. Well, at least they were knocking…

Kenshin nearly fell on his face when he opened the door. "Oro!"

"Is that any way to greet your master, boy? You could at least offer me sake."

"Oro- I - This one- _Master!_ "

Hiko arched an eyebrow and Kenshin struggled to find his tongue, instantly ten years old and all awkward limbs again. "Come in, please," he waved stupidly at the courtyard. Hiko was in Tokyo - or Kenshin had finally gone mad, and he wasn't sure which seemed more probable. Hiko walked by him, white cape swirling, and Kenshin started with an open mouth before closing the gate.

"Master," he said as Hiko seated himself on the porch, "what are you - This one means, ah, one is quite surprised to see you, that I am." They stared silently at each other.

"Pupil. Sake. I do not intend to have this conversation without it."

Kenshin was halfway to the kitchen before his conscious brain realized what he was doing. Warming the drink allowed him time to organize his racing thoughts, and his face burned. _The letter._ He nearly moaned out loud, and resisted the urge to smash his face on the counter. When there was nothing else to do, he set a tray and went to face his master.

He poured silently, and Hiko took a sip. "Passable. The girl must have chosen it." Kenshin bit his tongue. Hiko drained his cup and held it out. Kenshin poured again, and sat quietly until the silence was just too much.

"Master," he didn't like the desperation in his voice and tried for a more adult tone. "You've come all the way to Tokyo."

"Obviously."

"A letter would have sufficed."

Hiko looked at him from the corner of his eye. "Sake is best enjoyed _silently_ , apprentice."

Kenshin ground his teeth and poured another cup. "It is barely ten-thirty."

"Observant."

Kenshin fantasized about flipping the tray; the sake would drip from Hiko's hair _just so…_ He breathed evenly through his nose as Hiko finished the gourd.

"The Kamiya girl adopted that spiky haired runt, did she not?"

Kenshin blinked. "Legally, yes. When we returned home."

Hiko's lips twitched. "Well then. She has a brother."

"Oro! He's _twelve."_

"He's a brother. It's enough."

"He's at work…" Kenshin nearly whispered.

"Then we'll wait." Hiko's gaze swung to Kenshin directly for the first time.

Kenshin sat in stunned silence. Was it really so simple? Neither of them with any blood family left, but his father, her brother… and wasn't that what mattered? It was Friday, he'd sent the letter a mere week ago, and his master was _here_ , on his porch, insulting his sake and making plans to get him married. Emotion rose in his chest. _Master…_

"Stupid pupil, attend." Kenshin straightened himself. "It has been a many years since your last marriage."

"Oro?"

Hiko placed an ankle over his knee and leaned forward. "Do you remember what to do?"

"Oro!" Kenshin scrambled backward.

Hiko leaned further in. "Speed is not the answer in this situation."

"M- _master!"_

"Remember, it's not the length of the blade, but the skill of the wielder."

Hiko's grin was downright sadistic.

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Kenshin's face was still burning as he made lunch. _Do I remember what to_ do?! He was slicing the squash too thinly. He adjusted his grip on his knife - it was sharp, stupidly sharp for vegetables, but old habits and all of that. Hiko was simply being himself, just needling him to get him to blush - _curse his complexion -_ and he needed to keep that in mind. Really though, the last thing that Kenshin needed today, when Hiko had made it clear that he would open marriage negotiations that very afternoon, was to be thinking about _that._ It was hard enough not to think about finely turned collarbones, pink lips, and delicate wrists on daily basis. He added the vegetables into a pan to cook and grimly began mixing a sauce. _Waterfalls. Cold, flowing, peaceful waterfalls._ His ears still burned.

"Tadaima!" Yahiko's voice rang out, loud and bold from the gate. Kenshin stiffened, momentarily frozen in the act of filling the rice container.

"Okaerinasai," he found his voice, and finished setting the tray for lunch. Belatedly, he added another flask of sake to the tray and carried it into the main room. Calmly. Yahiko was peppering Hiko with questions and Hiko was being… not terrible, really.

Kenshin seated himself, the blessing was said over the meal, and he chewed his way through a lunch that seemed to be made of sand as conversation swirled around him. He carried the empty dishes to the kitchen and fetched down some sweets and tea. How on earth would this _work?_ Yahiko was still a child and he, Kenshin, had nothing to offer into a marriage, in any case.

Hiko was smiling into a sake cup when he returned. "Tea cakes?" and Yahiko descended on the tray like a locust.

Kenshin abstained. Hiko drank.

"Boy," Hiko said and both Kenshin and Yahiko looked. "You've been adopted into the Kamiya family."

Yahiko blinked in surprise and attempted to swallow the cake stuffing his cheeks. "Well, yeah, but just for legal stuff. I'm still a Myojin." He thumbed at his chest.

"You are the eldest male Kamiya." Yahiko looked back and forth between the two men and read the atmosphere. He set his cake on his tray, and straightened his back.

"Yeah. Yes. I am."

"Then, you and I must talk." Yahiko's eyes rounded saucer wide. "Your sister is of marriageable age. I propose a union between her and my idiot son."

Yahiko's grin was enormous. "And what does your son have to offer my sister?" Kenshin took a deep, quiet breath.

 _My entire heart._

"He has some skill with a sword. He is educated. He is a hard worker."

"Lots of guys have those, though; why should Kaoru marry _him_?"

 _I will spend the rest of my life seeing to her every need._

Hiko narrowed his eyes. "He is compassionate."

Yahiko shrugged and opened his mouth to speak but the polite motions had begun to feel real, and Kenshin blurted out without thinking, desperation tightening his belly, "This one will spend every day caring for her happiness."

"Yeah," Yahiko agreed, "Yeah, that one sounds good." He straightened narrow shoulders. "Yes."

Hiko's mouth twitched. "Now, about the dowry…"

"Oro!"

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Kaoru walked home with long strides. It was nearly three. Kenshin would worry if she was late, and she hated the shadows in his eyes. "Tadaiiama!" Her home was quiet, and there was a notable lack of former _rurouni_ in her courtyard.

"Hey." Yahiko said, sitting on the porch.

"Hi," Kaoru said, trying not to be overly conspicuous with her looking.

"Kaoru, we should talk."

She frowned and took a seat near him.

"A man came to talk to me today." She raised her eyebrows and waited. "About marriage."

Kaoru groaned. "Again?" Waiting behind the door, Kenshin startled.

"It's different this time."

Kaoru's eyes narrowed. "How is it _different_ Yahiko- _chan?"_

"I've decided to accept."

Kaoru's eyes bulged. "You what? You brat!" She grabbed her bokken. "I'm going to maim you!" Kenshin's lips curved. "They won't recognize your body when I'm done with you!"

"You'd better go before she catches him," Hiko offered.

"Aa," Kenshin opened the door with a quiet _clack._ Kaoru was chasing Yahiko around the yard, and even in kimono and geta, her swings were getting close. "Kaoru-dono?" She froze at the extent of her swing with a startled, guilty look then straightened and glared at the back of the running boy, speaking through clenched teeth.

"Just a second, Kenshin, Yahiko and I were having a discussion."

"This one thought it might be a nice time for a walk, that I did."

Kaoru lowered her bokken. "Um… a walk?"

"Yes," He smiled gently for her and stepped off of the porch and into his shoes. Kaoru blushed and bit her lip, crossing to put her bokken away, transforming from avenging goddess to shy maiden in an instant.

"Okay." She let him lead the way out out of the gate and he turned left down the path, away from town. Her cheeks burned brighter. He led her to the riverbank.

"Yahiko has accepted a marriage on your behalf."

"You heard! Kenshin he's just -" Her words cut off abruptly when he smiled at her, through his bangs.

"But if you do not want it, Kaoru-dono, this one would never wish for you to feel forced."

"Kenshin?" Her breathing was quick and shallow and the look on her face was half confused and half hopeful.

She required the words; she _deserved_ the words, and Kenshin fought to unglue his tongue from the roof of his mouth. "Kaoru-dono, this one would like very much to spend the rest of his life here as your husband, that he would."

She gasped, momentarily stunned to silence. Then she surged into his arms like a tidal wave. "Kenshin, you _idiot,_ I thought you'd never ask, I-" and his arms were full of silk and woman and she was laughing, and and her lips tasted like salt and _Kaoru_ , and the overwhelming rightness of it was all he could have ever wanted.


	101. Oooops

I've realized that I've somehow broken FFnet's brain today. I apologize for those of you who got a version of Chapter 100 with editing notes still in.

And those of you that didn't get a notification at all, Chapter 100 is up!


	102. Grooming

One of the nicest perks of being married, in Kaoru's considered opinion, was the right to touch, and be touched. She worked up her courage as she braided her hair for bed. He'd let her do it before, before they'd been engaged even. Surely he'd let her do it now? She was his wife; it was her right.

"Um, Kenshin?" He looked over from his spot in their - their! - bed. She took a deep breath, and gestured to her own head. "Would you- can I?"

"Eh?"

"Kenshin!" She grabbed a hairbrush and pointed it like a bokken. "Your hair!"

"Oro!"

She took a calming breath. "You should brush your hair."

"This one already did so, Kaoru." And he had, it was free of it's usual binding, laying almost to his waist. He looked confused

"It could use a little more brushing, I think." She blushed, and a smiled bloomed over his face, understanding lighting his eyes.

"Aa, as you wish," he turned his back and now, finally, she had unrestrained access to his hair, all that glorious red hair, vibrant as a fox's fur, exotic as peacock feathers. She hurried to the bed and sat down behind him, eager as a child.

Carefully, slowly, she drew the brush through his hair. _Oh_ , it was perfect. He'd been taking care of it, she could tell; it was soft and thick, free of tangles. She stroked through his hair again, with long, slow motions, from the roots to the tips. She kept brushing until it gleamed in the lamplight, and then switched to the shorter stuff by Kenshin's face, being careful of eyes and ears. She kept brushing, long after she most likely should have stopped, but it just… it was like liquid flames in her hands, like living scarlet silk, what woman wouldn't to play with it? Kenshin certainly wasn't complaining.

In fact, now that she was paying attention to anything but the ridicuously soft stuff in her hands, Kenshin was _certainly_ not complaining! In fact, he was leaning into the brush as she stroked, and making little pleasure sounds, little hums in his throat as she worked. _Like a cat,_ she thought, smiling. Relunctantly she stopped at last, and Kenshin stayed still for several moments, like a man waking.

"Thank you, Kaoru," his voice was deep and dreamy.

She would do this again tomorrow night.


	103. Life

Setting: Soon after marriage

Inspiration: A movie quote, but I don't know what movie it's from! If you recognize it let me know.

Kaoru tasted of salt, and felt like silk. Kenshin couldn't get enough, pressing kisses along her collarbone, his breathing still labored, his body still overheated. He mouthed at her skin, any of her that he could reach without moving, relaxation thrumming through him. He let his eyes drift closed. Her hands were feather light on his back as he rested against her. She stroked along old scars, ridges of skin raised in stark relief from the muscles there.

"Kenshin?" Her voice was quiet, like drops in a silent pool.

"Hmmm?"

"So many." Her fingers found a particularly large scar, the one that Saito had left. and she traced it several times.

"Mmm, this one is one of the lucky ones."

"You survived."

"...That too," he laid his hand over her heart, and delighted in the feel of it, the steady beat of her life under his palm.

Her fingers drifted to the wound that Jineh had made, that had barely and miraculously missed his liver, ghosting over it, again and again, and then traveled to the bite mark on his shoulder. Her heart rate rose, and Kenshin shifted so that he was able to see her face through his bangs. She was upset. He was awash in peaceful lethargy and his wife was distressed. He frowned.

"Kenshin-" her voice caught, and her fingers kept mapping that scar, with it's terrible, twisted lines. He knew what it looked like, and it was anything but reassuring or pretty. "Kenshin, you could have- so many times, Kenshin you could have-"

"But this one did not," he interrupted gently, and caught her wrist, pulling her away from old pain. He brought her hand to his mouth, kissing her callused fingers before laying them over his own heart. "This one is here, with you."

Her eyes were shining and liquid trembled on her lashes, but didn't fall.

"Kaoru, this is more than this one ever thought to have. To lie here with you."

Kaoru licked her lips. "Then always come home after. No matter what happens, always come home."

"To you," he agreed, and leaned down to kiss her, her palm caught between them. "This one will always return to you."


	104. Attention

Please note: I am using "they" as a pronoun for Kamatari, because I'm honeslty just not sure what pronoun would be best for them. My first instinct is "she" but they readily identify themself as a male, also, which strikes me as a storytelling device, but if we're being canon purists, well… who knows?

 **Because I believe that Kamatari lives for Shishio's praise.**

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They smoothed the line of the pads and turned slightly in front of the mirror, frowning, checking the lines. Adequate. Next came the _juban_ , and then the _datejime_ , all folded and draped and smoothed with care. Layer and layer Kamatari built, all designed for beauty, all designed to entice. Perfume was next, sandalwood and rose; they dabbed it on their pulsepoints, the better to release the scent into the air. Armor comlete, they shouldered their scythe and left their room.

Their footsteps were carefully graceful, but they knew it was nothing compared to Yumi's beautiful gait. Soujiro was waiting.

"Kamatari-san, thank you for coming."

"Yeah, kid, I'm here."

They took a defensive stance; the kid was fast. He danced around them and the scythe as though Kamatari were standing still. The sparring seemed to take ages, and they were a panting, shaking, sweating mess by the end of it.

Soujiro bowed. "Very good, Kamatari-san, thank you for the match."

Kamatari could barely breathe, could barely see for the sweat in their eyes. They nodded.

"Good," Shishio's deep voice filled the large sparring room, and Kamatari's heart skipped a beat. He'd seen. He'd seen the match, seen them bested. They looked over as Shishio tapped ash from his pipe. "You've improved," and just like that, he left.

And despite the burning frustartion that filled their heart, _He saw me sweaty and mussed and beaten,_ the praise penetrated their fog.

 _He noticed,_ he'd noticed and praised their efforts. Kamatari's exhaustion seemed to evaporate into thin air.

"Kid. You want to go again?"


	105. Deja Vu

Setting: shortly after marriage.

Because Kenshin has so much trauma in his past...

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Melancholy nipped at Kenshin's thoughts, flirting around the edges of his mind, blown in by the cold air. Kaoru was sleeping late and he was perhaps dwelling too much in his thoughts. He finished sweeping the walk clean of snow, and returned to the kitchen to begin the laundry. Laundry in the winter was a time consuming chore, and it was best to get it over with quickly. Hands plunged into warm water and the scent of soap filling the kitchen, Kenshin tried to relax, letting the rhythm of the scrubbing clear his mind.

"Kenshin?" His wife's voice sounded strange. He turned torward her, pasting on a sunny smile that froze in place as he took her in: mussed, unbrushed hair; red nose; watery eyes, general appearance of misery.

She was sick.

She was _sick._

Kaoru smiled weakly. "I'm sorry, Kenshin, I don't feel well today. Would you mind telling Yahiko that I'm cancelling classes? I think I should go back to bed."

Her voice sounded terrible. Then she coughed, a deep racking sound that sent chills down Kenshin's spine. His expression must have been something to behold, because Kaoru tilted her head to one side, like a little bird.

"I'll be fine tomorrow, Kenshin, really. It's just a cold. But maybe I could have some soup and rice?"

The frozen immobility in his limbs shattered and he sprang towards the stove and the breakfast he'd kept warm there. His mouth was glued shut and his heart was beating rabbit-fast. Kaoru had never been sick before. He should have kept the house warmer. He should have made her baths hotter. He should insisted that she stayed home yesterday instead of walking to the market in the cold.

Kaoru was sick.

She was sick and pale and coughing, his stomach twisted into knots. He heaped her bowls full, his mind frantically planning lunch. What foods were warm and strengthening? Did he have all the ingredients he needed? Should he leave her here alone to go shopping? While she ate, he built up the fire in their room. He had to wipe sweat from his face.

"Oof, Kenshin, it's _hot."_ Kaoru looked shocked.

He scratched the back of his head. "You should stay warm, that you should. This one is going to go to town for just a little while."

Kaoru nodded, still seeming a bit dazed, and he handed her down into their bed, then hurriedly put on his jacket and left the house. The distance to the market was short, and even shorter when a person was running, and quite short indeed when that person was Kenshin.

He _might_ have bought too much food. A little bit too much. Maybe.

Kaoru was sick.

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"Ken-san?"

Kenshin thanked his lucky stars that Megumi was visiting this week, and smiled weakly at her surprised face, putting his purchases on the clinic floor.

"Megumi-dono," he nodded in greeting.

Megumi eyed the contents of his basket, then his face and posture and crossed her arms. "Kaoru-san is ill?"

" _Yes,_ " his heart rate was high again. "She is coughing, and pale and hoarse."

Megumi nodded. "It's going around. I've got something that will help," she gestured for him to follow her to another room, one filled with chests and drawers of medicines. She selected one and poured it into a little packet. "You'll want to add this to her tea, six times a day, until her cough recedes." She held it out and he shifted, looking down at it.

"What if she runs a fever?" He asked.

She blinked. "This cold doesn't usually involve a fever, Ken-san."

"She was pale earlier," he offered her his best wide, appealing stare, and tried to look innocent, and cute.

Megumi's lips pressed into a line, but she went back to the chest and selected another packet of medicine. "This is for fever, and _only_ for fever, Ken-san. Kaoru-san will not need it otherwise." He accepted both medicines and tucked them carefully into his sleeve.

"And what should this one do for congestion in the chest?"

"I- does she _have_ chest congestion?"

"Not at this time, Megumi-dono, but her cough seems bad, that it does."

"Ken-san, I don't think-" Something in his gaze of stance stopped her and she sighed. "Come, I'll teach you to make a poultice for congestion."

All told, it took nearly an hour at the clinic before he was ready to leave. He gathered up his things and was reaching to open the door, when Megumi's hand on his sleeve made him pause.

"Ken-san," her eyes were dark, and her voice was very quiet. "This is just a cold. She's young, and healthy, and it isn't cholera."

Kenshin's smile didn't' reach his eyes. "This one is perfectly aware of that, Megumi-dono."

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He checked on Kaoru, and smiled to find her asleep in their very warm bedroom. He put his purchases away and let her sleep. By late afternoon, she was still sleeping, but he made a hearty dinner anyway, carefully measuring medicine into her tea. He balanced the tray on one arm, and pushed open his bedroom door.

"Kaoru-dono, it is time to eat, so it is."

Kaoru made a face over the tea, and took it down quickly. She then ate slowly, watching his face from the corner of her eyes, and ate it all, even the pickled burdock, which he knew that she didn't like. Afterward, she reached out a hand, tangling their fingers together.

"Stay," she said, and so he did, watching over her until she fell asleep again, counting her even, unlabored breaths and trying to calm himself.

 _It's only a cold. She's healthy and strong. It isn't cholera._

 _I will take good care of her._

 _She will be fine._

 _She will._


End file.
